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I UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. ^ 



OUR VACATIONS 

WHERE TO aO, 

HOW TO ao, 

AND HOW TO ENJOY THEM, 
By FRAN^ E^ CLARK. 




BOSTON: 
ESTES AND LAURIAT, 

143 Washington Stree'^. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, 

By ESTES and LAURIAT, 

In the OflBce of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



- ^"' '%.. 



Stereotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry, 
19 Spring Lane. 



TO MY CLASSMATES, 

T.E. C, S. W. A., AND L. H. R., 

WITH WHOM I HAVE SPENT SOME OF THE PLEASANTEST 
OF VACATION WEEKS, 

Cljb ITitllc Volume is Instribeb 

BY ONE OF THE "QUARTETTE." 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Preliminary . 9 

II. To THE White Mountains for Fifteen 

Dollars 14 

III. To Canada. — Montreal. — Quebec. — 

Ottawa. — River St. Lawrence. . . 57 

IV. The Tent on the Beach 115 

V. Down East. — St. John. — Prince Ed- 
ward Island. — Cape Breton. — Hal- 
ifax 149 



puR y 



UR Vacations 




HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 



OUR VACATIONS, 

AND 

HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 



CHAPTER I. 

If the reader were entitled to know the whole 
truth, we should confess to a few conscientious 
qualms for not consigning this opening chapter 
to that sepulchre for an author's good wishes, 
trembling hopes, and unnecessary explanations, 
called an introduction or preface. 

For, indulgent reader (this phrase is introduced 
on information, before commencing our book, 
that this was the proper way to address you), in- 
stead of getting a sniff of the sea in the very first 
page, or diving into the heart of the Adirondacks 
with the opening sentence, we are obliged to 

9 



lo OUR VACATIONS. 

place before you a very few introductory pages 
of explanation, which are not labelled " introduc- 
tion" for the very good reason that we wish to 
have them read — a piece of good fortune which 
is supposed to fall- to the lot of but few prefaces. 

But if these first pages were not read, we 
should have visions of many scornful noses turned 
up at this little book, and, in imagination, hear 
many sarcastic remarks, such as, " Walk to the 
White Mountains indeed ! A pretty way of trav- 
elling this man recommends ! To Canada for fifty 
dollars ! Ridiculous ! He must mean one hun- 
dred and fifty dollars." Yet we do not mean one 
hundred and fifty dollars, for, leave off the first 
three words, and with that sum in your pockets 
you can start from Boston and see all the sights of 
the Canadas in a two weeks' vacation trip. More- 
over, we will tell you how the White Hills, the 
Mecca of wearied, city-worn pilgrims, may be 
reached, and a delightful vacation of three weeks 
spent among them for fifteen dollars ; and for as 
many dollars as it takes to spend a single day at 
a first class sea-side hotel, we will tell you how 



HOIV TO ENJOY THEM. n 

you can live a week at the sea-shore in a far more 
enjoyable way. 

So, friend of the plethoric purse, we would 
advise you to read no farther, unless, indeed, 
Newport, and Saratoga, and Long Branch have 
become utterly wearisome, and you have a notion 
of trying a poor man's vacation just as you would 
take a glass of soda " plain" after having " made 
a night of it." 

But this little book is written for the great mid- 
dle class, to which so many of us must necessarily 
belong — for the city clerk who gets his ten, fif- 
teen, or twenty dollars a week, who looks with 
longing eyes from the hot, red bricks to the cool, 
green country, but who yet always sees an in- 
separable connection between the green fields and 
forests and greenbacks ; for the country min- 
ister who longs to get away from his little parish 
into fresh scenes, where the croakings of brother 
A and the complaints of widow B will fail to 
reach him ; for the doctor who has had plenty 
of patience, but very few patients ; for the brief- 
less barrister ; in short, for any one in whose 



12 OUR VACATIONS, 

slender salary the bills of the butcher, and baker, 
and candlestick-maker leave such a narrow mar- 
gin at the end of the year, that he finds the doors 
of our fashionable watering-places barred against 
him as really as though they were the very gates 
to the garden of Eden. In other respects than 
extreme exclusiveness, we imagine that the 
modern hotel resembles the ancient Paradise 
but little. The fig leaf has certainly been very 
much expanded since the days of Mother Eve, 
and Father Adam's cuisine differed considerably 
from the table d'hote of a fashionable watering- 
place hotel. Indeed, we flatter ourselves that in 
visiting the mountains and sea-shore, as we are 
about to relate, we come much nearer to the 
customs of Paradise than do those who pay 
five dollars per day for the privilege of exist- 
ing at the Crawford House or Congress Hall. 
However this may be, the reader may be as- 
sured that these vacation trips have actually 
been made by the writer in the way and for 
the sum mentioned, and can be taken again 
by a thousand others. 



HOIV TO ENJOY THEM, 13 

Especial pains have been taken that the state- 
ments of expenses, and the description of routes, 
outfits, &c., should be accurate and trustworthy ; 
and our hope is, that many work-worn souls, 
who otherwise could not take a summer vaca- 
tion, by following the example of Tom, Dick, 
and Sam, may gain inspiration from a few 
weeks spent among the hills or upon the sea- 
shore, that will carry them more happily through 
another twelvemonth of care and toil. 



14 OUR VACATIONS. 



CHAPTER II. 

TO THE WHITE MOUNTAINS FOR FIFTEEN 
DOLLARS. 

Now, don't mentally consign us to an insane 
asylum, kind reader, when you glance at the 
above caption, and score off on your fingers — 
" Railroad fare twenty dollars, hotel bills forty 
dollars, carriage hire fifteen dollars, sundries 
twenty dollars ; " for on our trip to the moun- 
tains we mean to have no railroad fares, or 
hotel bills, or carriage hire to pay. 

" How shall we go, then.? " do you inquire. 

Why, by the turnpike, and on our own good 
legs, to be sure ; for what other purpose, pray, 
were legs and turnpikes made.? 

One would think, from the antipathy which 
some people show to using their locomotive 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 15 



powers, that they were only meant for the tailor 
to exercise his skill upon, and that highways 
were intended solely for quadrupeds. 

Well, having made sure that the means of get- 
ting to the mountains are both inexpensive and 
always at our command, the next thing we want 
to secure is, a party of five or six good fellows, 
just like ourselves — Tom, who is *' such a good 
hand at a story ; " and Dick, who is so good na- 
tured ; and Sam, who is one of the best hearted 
fellows in the world ; and Hiram and Jack — 
you know whom I mean ; ■ — but the grumbler 
and fault-finder must certainly be left out of our 
party. 

Nothing would go right if he were with us. 
The coffee would always be muddy, the roads 
would be sure to be " confoundedly dusty," and 
the villages " wretched little hamlets." Mount 
Washington would surely be enveloped in a 
cloud when he made the ascent, and the "Old 
Man of the Mountain" would scowl more 
fiercely than ever when he gazed at him. Yes, 
our grumbling friend must be left at home, by 
all means. 



i6 OUR VACATIONS. 

Should any of our lady friends read this book, 
let them not feel excluded from our party if they 
have a desire for the muscle and happiness of the 
clifF-climber. 

Let it be understood, too, that, wherever in 
these pages the masculine pronoun occurs in 
reference to the travellers, the feminine is in- 
cluded, as in lavyr the v^rord man means vv^oman 
also. For this vacation trip is quite as practi- 
cable for a lady of reasonably strong constitution 
as for the Tom, Dick, Sam, and Hiram before 
alluded to. 

Indeed, we have before us now an account 
of such a trip to the mountains, taken by a 
party of young ladies from Portland, at less ex- 
pense than the jaunt we are about to describe ; 
and a most delightful expedition it was, if we may 
judge from their account of " How we did it/' 

To be sure, a party which is partially made up 
of ladies may not be able to make quite as long 
daily marches as one in which the fair sex is 
wholly wanting ; but this difficulty can easily be 
remedied by spending more days upon the road, 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 17 

which, perhaps, would be fully as agreeable to 
all parties as a more hurried journey. 

Now that the party is made up, the next thing 
will be our outfit. 

And first we must get a horse and wagon. 
Our steed need not be a Bucephalus, by any 
means. A strong, trustworthy animal, who 
knows a piece of white paper from a ghost, and 
can pick up his dinner from the road-side with- 
out whinnying for oats or corn meal for des- 
ert, is more serviceable to us among the New 
Hampshire hills, than a Dexter or a Longfellow 
would be. 

Such a horse we can easily hire for a dollar a 
day, while the wagon body he is to draw ought 
not to cost us more than five dollars for the trip. 
This wagon is to carry our tent, provisions, and 
blankets ; and for this purpose an ordinary ex- 
press wagon, covered with a canvas top, well 
painted to keep out the rain, answers as well as 
anything. 

It is very amusing to see what mistakes this 
nondescript vehicle of ours will give rise to when 
2 



i8 OUR VACATIONS. 

we get into the backwoods settlements. From 
one house a woman will rush in post-haste, and 
cry out at the top of her lungs, that she wants 
two pounds of beefsteak. We politely explain 
that we do not run a meat cart, and drive on a 
mile farther, to the next farm-house. From this 
we see a small boy emerge, waving violently a 
red flag. This is evidently meant to attract our 
attention, but whether to give us notice of an 
auction or a case of small-pox within, we are at 
a loss to determine, until we discover that we are 
mistaken for the baker, as the boy bawls out, 
" Ma wants a brick loaf of bread." At the next 
little collection of .houses, half a score of chil- 
dren will gather around us, with eager inquiries 
as to where the next show will be, evidently mis- 
taking us for the advanced guard of some 
" world-renowned circus." Thus on all the 
roads among the mountains, which are a little 
off the regular routes of pleasure travel, our 
strange team will be almost as rare a sight as a 
new comet, and will afford a fruitful topic of 
conversation for days after we have passed. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 



But to return to our outfit. 

The first thing to go into the wagon will be 
an A tent, large enough to hold our party. 
For this R. M. Yale, or any dealer in tents, will 
probably charge us at least three dollars per 
week ; but if we happen to know of some friend 
or charitably disposed person who has an unused 
tent on hand, we can get it, very likely, for a 
third of that sum. Such an exorbitant rent is 
asked for these canvas houses, that a few weeks 
of camp life would cover their first cost, so that 
it would be cheaper, in most cases, to buy the 
tent outright, and sell it again at the end of the 
trip. But there is generally* little need of pay- 
ing this price. 

The tree poles of the tent should ride on the 
bottom of the wagon, with the canvas over them ; 
and though they will stick out behind in a rather 
awkward manner, they will be found convenient 
to hang our lantern and tin pails upon, if the 
wagon is very full. Then in the front part of the 
wagon will come the barrel of hardtack — Pilot 
A if our teeth are strong and our digestion good. 



20 'OUR VACATIONS. 

though a softer and richer variety can be had at 
a higher price, should we desire it. 

We shall find that one barrel of pilot bread will 
just about last a party of half a dozen for three 
weeks. Next will come one keg of pickles, an 
indispensable article if any of the gentler sex are 
to accompany us, and in any case a great addi- 
tion to the ham and hard tack, which often, when 
encamped away from villages and farm.-houses, 
we shall be obliged to make the staple of our 
meals. 

Beside the pickle keg will fit in nicely a box 
of hams, cofiee, sugar, condensed milk, corn 
meal, salt pork, cheese, salt, and pepper. These 
are all the varieties of provisions that it is really 
necessary to take on an expedition of any length ; 
and if one or two of these articles, even, were 
left behind, it would be no serious loss. Of 
course it is expected that much of our food will 
be bought on the way ; but of such staple articles 
as coffee, sugar, and pilot bread, it is both 
cheaper and more convenient to keep a supply 
on hand. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 21 

Two medium-sized hams will be enough for 
our party, we shall probably find, while we 
shall need at least five pounds of cofiee, and 
twenty pounds of sugar to sweeten it. 

Nothing is more essential to camp life than 
the coffee-pot. Its fragrance as it bubbles on the 
stove, before supper, is enough to make the 
crustiest nature genial, and its aromatic flavor 
will encourage and strengthen us for a hard 
day's tramp, or will soothe and dissipate the 
aches and stiffness of a twenty mile walk, as 
nothing else in our larder will do. Long may 
the coffee-bag hold out, say we. 

Of course we want the salt pork (five or six 
pounds of it), to use in cooking the speckled 
trout, which we have already caught in imagina- 
tion, a hundred times over, from the mountain 
streams. 

The corn meal will be useful to roll our fish 
in before frying them, as well as to make the 
Johnnie cakes, which, as an alternate with our 
hard tack, will seem so delicious to our hungry 
souls. Borden's condensed milk makes a very 



22 OUR VACATIONS. 

good and convenient substitute for" milk in coffee, 
though it is worth little for other purposes. 

As for prepared meats, we had better not 
take many cans of them, unless we have a notion 
of treating the New Hampshire crows and hawks 
to their contents. The picture of the sirloin roast 
on the outside of the can looks very juicy, to be 
sure, and the labels, *' Roast Beef," and " Chicken 
Soup," sound extremely inviting. But, alas, we 
can hardly make a meal of the name or picture, 
and upon opening our can of " Roast Beef," we 
shall find nothing but a square chunk of " Mys- 
tery," and a very tasteless chunk it will be too ; 
while the " Chicken Soup " (we are fortunately 
told what it is in plain print, on the outside) will 
hardly be appreciated, unless one has a decided 
liking for hard little cubes of carrot and turnip. 

If an apology is required for the minuteness 
with which the contents of our provision-box 
are catalogued, it is humbly submitted that re- 
peated experience shows that the articles men- 
tioned are, on the whole, the best for a jaunt 
like ours. 



HO IV TO ENJOY THEM. 23 

Next, we shall put into our wagon a box con- 
taining our coffee-pot, spider, and small iron 
kettle, besides the tin plate, cup, knife, fork, and 
spoon for each one of the party. 

On top of all these boxes we can pile our rolls 
of blankets, one or two for each man, not forget- 
ting a couple of rubber blankets to spread on the 
floor of the tent ; and last of all will come our 
stove, whichshould be small and light, weighing 
not more than forty pounds (such a one as can 
be bought at almost any old iron store for a dollar 
and a half). The little stove will be found a 
great convenience, for it is easily handled by one 
man, and saves the great bother of always hav- 
ing a fireplace to build when a cup of coffee or 
a slice of fried bacon is wanted. 

Now the wagon is all snugly packed, and, 
having donned our very oldest and coarsest 
clothes, we shall be ready to start at daybreak 
to-morrow for the White Hills. A very good 
uniform, by the way, for such a pedestrian tour, 
is a blue flannel shirt, and stout gray trousers, 
without coat or vest, though it would be well to 



24 



OUR VACATIONS. 



put coats in the wagon, to provide for the con- 
tingency that the nights among the mountains 
may be cool. 

Fifteen miles will be enough for the first day*s 
march (we shall all agree on this point before 
the day is over, I am sure), and if we start by 
six o'clock, or as soon as we have surrounded a 
good hot breakfast, we shall have made our fif- 
teen miles before two o'clock in the afternoon. 
And O, the delights of those long summer after- 
noons in camp ! 

Tom, and Hiram, and Jack, perhaps have 
done their share of the afternoon's work in put- 
ting up the tent, and arranging things inside ; 
while it is for Dick and Sam to superintend the 
dinner. 

How fragrant that whiff of coffee was that just 
now floated into the open tent ! How cheerily 
the fire crackles in the stove, and the bacon siz- 
zles in the spider ! 

How those pains and aches, which the fifteen 
miles of steady tramping put into our legs, ooze 
out of them, as we stretch ourselves at full length, 



HO IV TO ENJOY THEM. 25 

in Oriental fashion, upon the blankets ! In short, 
what a jolly time we are having, and what a 
grand thing tent life is after the day's work 
is done ! 

And now Dick is pounding on the kettle by 
way of a gong, to let us know that dinner is 
ready. Did any one ever taste such crisp ham 
and fried potatoes? The pilot bread is a little 
hard, to be sure, but then it is wonderfully 
sweet— isn't it? Surely hens never laid such 
fresh eggs in the region of Boston ! Indeed, how 
could anything be changed for the better? 

Even this barren, old New Hampshire pas- 
ture, which stretches , in front of us, looks 
almost glorified as we view it through the 
delicious steam that arises from our coftee-cup. 
By and by it begins to grow dark ; we have 
thought best to '* turn in " early, and nothing 
is now to be seen in the tent but six long mum- 
mies rolled in blankets. 

Soon the last story has been told, the last co- 
nundrum " given up," the last joke cracked, the 
soughing of the wind in the pine branches above 



26 OUR VACATIONS, 

us grows more and more Indistinct — and — 
Well, it is morning, and Tom is stirring about 
the tent, trying to impress on four desperately 
sleepy individuals that it is time to be getting 
breakfast. 

It is wonderful how completely the roseate 
hue which surrounded everything yesterday 
afternoon has departed. 

The pasture in which the tent is pitched is 
a wretched rocky field, after all. It seems as 
though the damp wood never would burn, and 
when it does, the spider full of ham, which is 
to make our breakfast, will be sure to burn with 
it. And then we all feel so stiff*, and sore, and 
uncomfortable generally, that we are a good- 
natured party, indeed, if we get through the 
morning without any exhibitions of total de- 
pravity. But a generous cup of coffee will 
dispel many of these evil spirits of ill-nature ; 
and a couple of miles of walking will limber 
up our locomotive powers, and drive away the 
rest of them, so that, long before the sun is two 
hours high, you couldn't find a jollier set of fel- 
lows than are we. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 27 

But here we are on the second day of our 
trip, and we haven't yet told the reader that we 
started with him from the beautiful little village 
of Center Harbor, New Hampshire. If you 
are Hubbites, in order to join us you must 
trudge through North-eastern Massachusetts, and 
South-eastern New Hampshire, along the eastern 
shore of charming Winnepiseogee, until, at 
about the end of the fourth day out, you will 
find yourselves encamped at Center Harbor. 
If it is not your good fortune to reside in the 
Tri mountain city, you will doubtless take some 
other route ; but, at any rate, you will be very 
likely to pass through Center Harbor ; so we 
will follow the ramblings of our mountaineers 
from this point. 

Some spot in the neighborhood of Tamworth 
will be our camping-ground on the first night 
out from Center Harbor, after a pleasant day's 
walk of seventeen miles. And now we begin 
to get into the midst of the grandest mountain 
scenery. Beyond the village of Tamworth looms 
up Chicorua (Coroway in the vernacular of the 



28 OUR VACATIONS. 

inhabitants), and a most remarkable mountain it 
is. No other hills are in its immediate neighbor- 
hood to lessen its effect, while its precipitous 
sides form almost a perfect cone, whose apex 
is so pointed, that only a few persons can stand 
upon it at the same time. The Tamworthians 
have a legend to the effect that the mountain 
takes its name from an Indian chief, who, after 
murdering a family of white men, unwisely 
took refuge on this mountain. Here he was 
pursued by' the avenging whites, and, on the 
very top, surrounded by his enemies, with no 
way to escape, was killed in a manner that 
fully satisfies the demands of poetic justice, 
and that affords a thrilling plot for the imagi- 
nation of any dime novel writer in the country. 
A day devoted to visiting " Coroway " and 
the beautiful lake which lies at its base will be 
well spent if we can afford the time ; but if not, 
we must push on the next day to North Con- 
way, twenty miles farther into the mountains 
than our last camp. This we shall find a beau- 
tiful place, full of boarding-houses, and a very 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 29 

high place to live in, in every sense of the w^ord. 
Hitherto we have been able to buy all the eggs 
we wanted for fifteen or twenty cents a dozen, 
but here they make a sudden leap to thirty 
cents. The cows, too, will only give milk for 
eight cents a quart at Conway, though in other 
towns we have had to pay but half that price ; 
so that, in order to live within our fifteen dollars, 
we shall be obliged to draw largely on the hard 
tack barrel. Indeed, we shall find that the price 
of living will continue to rise as we ascend. 

It is thought by some that the people of this 
region charge a dollar for every foot they get 
above the level of the sea ; thus at Conway 
you could spend the season at a fashionable 
hotel for two or three thousand dollars. At 
the Crawford, farther up, the expenses would 
probably not be more than four thousand ; 
while at the Tip-top House, which is some- 
thing more than six thousand feet high, you 
could get along very comfortably for six thou- 
sand dollars. We give no voucher for the ex- 
act truth of this statement ; it is only approxi- 
mate. 



30 



OUR VACATIONS. 



At Conway we shall find a very good place 
to pitch our tent, in a pine grove, a little east 
of the village, and, as the next day s march 
will take us out of the bounds of civilization, 
it will be well for us to have Conway's excel- 
lent artist take a picture of our party in camp, 
should we desire a more permanent impres- 
sion of the way we looked " the summer we 
went to the mountains " than our memories 
will be likely to retain. 

Of course Conway, like all these mountain 
towns, has innumerable cascades, and chasms, 
and mountain views, to show the astonished 
traveller ; but unless we have plenty of time 
at our disposal, we shall be likely to push on, 
the next day, in the direction of Bartlett. 

It is often amusing to notice the different 
answers we shall get to the frequent question, 
" How far,'* to a place ten miles or more away. 
" Good morning, my friend," we will say to 
a farmer, who is busily hoemg his paternal 
potato patch: "how far is it to Bartlett?" 
" Wal, I reckon it's ni^h onto seventeen mile,'* 



HOIV TO ENJOY THEM, 31 

he will answer ; and we pass on, congratulat- 
ing ourselves that we have got an easy clay's 
march before us. Soon we pass an Irishman 
working on the road, and propound to him 
the same question. " Sure an' it's twenty shar-rp 
miles," he will be very likely to reply. A 
tourist, perhaps, will be the next person we 
meet. "How far to Bartlett? O, a deuce of 
a ways ; twenty-five miles at least." By this 
time we shall probably give up inquiring, and 
come to the conclusion that Bartlett is a Jack- 
o'lantern, which retreats as we advance, while 
very likely we shall find at night, when we 
have caught the fugitive, and pitched our tent 
in the very midst of her, that none of our in- 
formants came within a league of the correct 
distance. 

Not that Bartlett is anything like a score 
of miles from our camp at North Conway ; if 
we follow our usual custom of doing the prin- 
cipal part of our walking early in the day, we 
shall pass through this pretty little mountain 
village about the time that the early worm is 



32 



OUR VACATIONS, 



popularly supposed to be devoured, and shall get 
quite a distance into the ungranted lands of New 
Hampshire before the afternoon sun tells us it is 
time to pitch our tent. 

And these ungranted lands, It may be taken for 
granted, will never find anybody willing to take 
a grant of them, for agricultural purposes at 
least, so rough and rocky are they. Indeed, you 
might as well try to cultivate the slate roof of a 
meeting-house. A mansard roof, with a cover- 
ing of asbestos, would be a far more desirable 
location. 

But the more ungrantable the country becomes, 
the higher do the mountains tower on every side ; 
and thus the law of compensation equalizes 
things, making the scenery grander and more 
picturesque as the country becomes more unciv- 
ilized and the roads more impassable. 

It is something above thirty miles from North 
Conway to the place we shall make our 
headquarters during our stay among the White 
Hills, — rather a long day's march over the 
rough mountain roads, — and we shall probably 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 33 

be ready to encamp by the time we get to the 
Crawford House, some eighteen or twenty miles 
from our last camp. 

All the land in this neighborhood, for eighteen 
miles on either side of the road, is owned by an 
eccentric old gentleman named Beamis, who has 
built a very pretty cottage near the old Crawford 
House. 

It is whispered that Dr. Beamis is rather op- 
posed to having parties encamp upon his ground ; 
but we shall find plenty of room for our tent be- 
side the public road, without trespassing upon 
the doctor's eighteen miles of wilderness. 

Three miles from this camp is the Willey 
House, a place which the standard reading book 
of thirty years ago impressed so strongly upon 
the children of the last generation. And a toler- 
ably correct picture the old reading book gives 
of this historic house, even at the present day, 
barring, of course, the family, whom, if memory 
serves, the artist represents fleeing in dire dismay, 
as well they might, some in one direction and 
some in another, from the approaching avalanche, 
3 



34 OUR VACATIONS. 

On a former visit to the mountains we saw a girl 
standing in the doorway of this very house, who 
certainly would have been safe had she belonged 
to the original Willey family, for surely nothing 
would have aroused her stupid, lethargic soul to 
attempt a flight. As we approached the house, 
we very naturally asked her, — 

" Is this the old Willey House? " 

" Dunno," was the laconic answer we re- 
ceived. 

" What, don't you know whether this was the 
house that so wonderfully escaped destruction in 
the avalanche of 1826, when all the family, who 
attempted to escape, were killed ? " 

" Dunno," she again replied. 

And " Dunno," was all we could get from 
this sapient damsel ; and we had to seek for our 
desired information elsewhere. 

It is curious to notice the different varieties of 
character one meets on a trip like ours. In the 
first place, we shall find quite a number like the 
girl just alluded to. To this class belong the 
crusty old farmers, who have lived half a cen- 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM, 35 

tiny within sight of the grandest mountains of 
New England, yet who have never seen the glo- 
rious view from their top, because, forsooth, they 
regard every day as wasted that is not spent grub- 
bing in their corn-field or potato-patch. These 
men would hardly know it, should the judgment 
day begin upon earth, and would be very likely to 
mistake Gabriel's trumpet for a fish-horn. 

Then there is another species of the ^enus 
Jiomo yclept Yankee, often met, who are just 
the opposite of these. Such men are not only 
ready to impart a vast amount of information 
and advice, but are exceedingly anxious to add to 
their own stock of knowledge. Some of their 
first questions, in all probability, will be, — 

" Stranger, what mought I call yer name?" 

" I mought call it Smith, eh ? " 

" Well, is trade pooty brisk down your way 
this summer?" 

" What, ye ain't a storekeeper ? " 

" A doctor then, perhaps ? " 

"No? Dutell!" 

*' You've come a pooty considerable ways, I 
reckon ? " 



36 OUR VACATIONS. 

" Morne a hundred miles, have yer?" 

" Ye must live somev^'har near Boston, then, 
I calkerlate." 

" O, ye live in the city, du ye? " 

" Know a fellow named Jack Styles? " 

" He lives in Boston, I believe." 

"Don't?" 

" vShow ! " 

And thus our genuine Yankee friend would 
talk for hours, fully satisfied with our monosyl- 
labic replies. 

' A near relative to this loquacious individual is 
the person who always leaves his mark wherever 
he goes, so that every smooth rock, or beech tree, 
or guide-post, along the route, proclaims to the 
wondering public that John Jones, who belongs, 
perchance, to the I. O. of G. T., or the G. A. R., 
or some other cabalistic society, has been that 
way. 

But most disagreeable of all is the snobbish 
tourist, whom we shall occasionally, and, — thank 
fortune, — only occasionally, meet. It is very 
seldom that he will deign to notice, much less 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. ■ 37 

speak to, such travel-stained, unpretentious pil- 
grims as we are. But when he does condescend 
to address us — Well, you know how he will 
talk ; for the snob is the same combination of in- 
sipidity, effeminacy, and conceit the world over. 

But to return to our party and the Willey 
House, where we left them meditating on the 
mutability of human life in general, and the dan- 
ger of avalanches in particular. 

Behind the house stands the hill from which 
the avalance rolled. Dame Nature, however, has 
covered with a green mantle of trees and bushes 
the gashes and chasms which, nearly fifty years 
ago, were made in its side ; and now it looks as 
peaceful and steadfast as any of the everlasting 
hills which tower above it. A few rods behind 
the house we can see the great rock, which so 
miraculously divided the great, onrushing mass 
of stones 'and dirt, and saved the house, while the 
whole family, who rushed out to save them- 
selves, were destroyed. 

Three miles from the Willey House is the far- 
famed Crawford Hotel ; but, our purses not being 



38 



OUR VACATIONS. 



long, we shall not tarry here a great while, but 
push on six miles farther, to the White Mountain 
House, where is not only a good place to encamp, 
but cheaper accommodation for man and beast 
than at almost any other hotel in the mountains. 
This is an important consideration, too, just now, 
since there are no stores in this region for miles 
and miles, and we must depend upon some pub- 
lic house for supplies, should the provisions in 
our wagon give out. 

The route thus far travelled has given an 
abundance of most various and picturesque 
mountain scenery. There are the perpendicu- 
lar hills that wall in the Notch, while for some 
distance we have followed the course of a little 
babbling, sparkling brook, which, one learns with 
wonder, expands before long into the broad and 
impetuous Saco. 

Near the Crawford House we notice one guide- 
board directing to the " Silver Cascade," and 
another to the " Old Woman of the Mountain." 
Perhaps the guide-books and boards give this 
stony matron a more euphonious name than this ; 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 39 

but it takes a stretch of imagination, of which 
only a mountain hotel-keeper or a guide-book 
author is capable to see the resemblance which 
the name indicates, in the jagged piece of rock 
that is pointed out as the " Old Woman." 

But then the Franconia Notch has its " Old 
Man of the Mountain," and of course the Craw- 
ford Notch musn't be without a rival. 

It will be very convenient to make the camp 
at the White Mountain House headquarters for 
three or four days, and from thence to take ex- 
cursions to the various points of interest in the 
neighborhood. 

Of course Mount Willard must be climbed — 
a trip which can easily be accomplished in one 
day. The view from the summit is more con- 
tracted than that from many of its big brothers, 
to be sure ; but, then, it has the advantage of 
being more distinct, and in the opinion of many 
no sublimer outlook can be found in all the 
mountains. 

The top of Mount Washington can be easily 
reached in either of two ways from a camp at 
the White Mountain House. 



40 



OUR VACATIONS. 



In the first place, the ascent can be made by 
the bridle-path, near the Crawford House, a com- 
paratively easy climb of nine miles ; or we can 
follow the railroad track to the top, a route which 
shortens the ascent to three miles, though it 
makes it much more steep and difficult. 

If there are any ladies in the party, the bridle- 
path will be wisely chosen ; but no matter which 
way is taken, the travellers will be tired enough 
when they reach the top. Not wishing to pay 
a dollar and a half for the privilege of spending 
the night at one of the tip-top hotels, and it being 
impossible to encamp on the summit with any 
degree of comfort or safety, there is yet a way 
to accomplish the desired result of being there at 
sunrise. For a small consideration, and perhaps 
free gratis, permission may be obtained to spread 
our blankets on the floor of the depot, where we 
shall doubtless sleep as soundly as though the 
mercury was not down to the freezing-point, and 
the wind blowing fifty miles an hour outside. 
But let us hope that the sun may rise clear to- 
morrow morning, for if it does not we shall carry 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 41 

through life, whenever we think of Mount Wash- 
ington, only the remembrance of a jagged pile 
of rocks, surmounted by two or three stone bar- 
racks, while in all, and through all, and over all, 
is this cold, wet, drizzly fog, the very thought of 
which will make one shiver on a dog day. But 
if it be clear and bright, no words can describe 
the wondrous scenes that will unfold, and no 
past fatigue can be weighed in the balance 
against the satisfaction of the hour. 

A visit to Tuckerman's Ravine, and a side 
excursion to one of the patches of snow, so that 
we can boast to our friends at home of a game 
of snow-balling in the middle of summer, will 
consume a large part of the day, and v/e proba- 
bly shall not reach our camp at the White 
Mountain House before nightfall. 

Great ' as is our wonder at the grandeur of 
nature upon these mountain tops, it is not un- 
mixed with feelings of admiration for the inge- 
nuity of man in overcoming the difficulties of 
ascent. 

The railroad is a standing marvel. As is well 



42 



OUR VACATIONS. 



known, it climbs the mountain in three miles, 
which necessitates a rise on an average of one 
foot in four, and sometimes as steep as one foot 
in three. 

The single passenger coach is pushed slowly 
before the engine, while, so steep is the grade, 
that the forward end of this little car (not half as 
long as an ordinary passenger car) is more than 
ten feet higher than the rear. 

Travel on such a road would seem to be ac- 
companied with unnumbered dangers ; but so 
perfect is the system of cogs and brakes that not 
an accident to life or limb has yet occurred. 

The originator and builder of the road says 
he does not wonder that people ridiculed his 
idea when he first proposed to run a train of cars 
to the top of Mount Washington; nor can we 
wonder either, as we climb carefully down the 
gaping trestle-work on which the tracks are laid, 
or struggle over the roots and stones which ob- 
struct the " Fabyan Path ; " poetically so called, 
we presume, for it is without doubt the worst 
little trail that ever led down a mountain side. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 43 

By devoting three days and a few dollars more 
to the White Hills, we can go around the moun- 
tain, and see the beauties of the glen, the emerald 
pool, Glen Ellis Falls, &c. ; but if the three 
weeks and fifteen dollars limits proposed at the 
outset are adhered to, the tent must be struck on 
the next morning after the visit to the monarch 
of these hills, and the line of march for the Fran- 
conias be taken up. 

The first day's journey takes the party by the 
Twin Mountain House, — one of the finest of the 
mountain hotels, which during some seasons has 
been able to offer the unusual attractions of 
" Beecher every Sunday, and dances every even- 
ing," — through the pretty little village of Bethle- 
hem, and just at nightfall, after toiling up three 
or four miles of a most leg-wearying hill, brings 
the party into the very heart of the Franconia 
Mountains, and more than two thousand feet 
above the sea level. 

These hills are so heavily wooded that it is 
not easy to find a cleared place large enough to 
pitch the tent, much less to pasture a horse ; con- 



44 



OUR VACATIONS, 



sequently the beast must be stabled at the Profile 
House barns, which will cost a dollar a day ; and 
if the little shanty, called the Summit House, 
about a mile from the Profile Hotel, is empty, it 
will be best to spread our blankets on the floor, 
and after making a smudge of chips for the 
benefit of the mosquitos, consign ourselves to 
the charge of Morpheus. 

Of course, one day must be spent in troyting ; 
it wouldn't do to go to the mountains and not 
have a fish story to carry home to one's friends. 
So we shall undoubtedly start off for the brooks, 
one of these bright mornings, with worms 
enough to feed a trout pond, and line enough 
dangling from our poles to supply a mackerel 
schooner. What exultation we feel as we think 
of the possibilities of sport and trout, which are 
before us to-day ! There tumbles the little moun- 
tain brook, with its deep holes and shady nooks, 
each one containing a speckled beauty, that we 
are sure was' foreordained to bite our tempting 
bait this very morning ; for why should -^e not 
have as good luck as the Mr. A. we read about 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 45 

in the paper, last week, who in one half day 
caught seventy-nine trout, all weighing over a 
pound apiece? 

Ah ! Won't Bill Harris open his eyes when 
we tell him of that great string we caught, — shall 
catch, we should say, for we have just dropped 
our hook over the edge of that mossy log, where 
it looks so black and deep ? 

There, we have a bite so soon, but it is on the 
back of the hand that holds the pole ; and as we 
bring the other hand down upon it with a vin- 
dictive slap, we jerk the pole, and the hook is 
caught fast in the mossy log. 

Ten minutes of vexatious work on the slippery 
rocks and log unfasten the hook, and we drop 
it in again, just where the water eddies round 
that big stone. And now we have a bona Jide 
trout bite, so quick and sharp (no nibbling and 
fooling with the bait for a trout), and up we 
pull in great excitement to see our line firmly 
caught in a limb six feet over our head, and the 
trout darting off to another rock to tell his friends 
of his adventure. 



46 OUR VACATIONS. 

Already we are prepared to pronounce the 
man who caught those seventy-nine trout a 
fraud ; and by the time we have shinned up the 
tree and disentangled the line, we can, with a 
hearty good will, anathematize trout, and lines, 
and trees, and everything else connected with 
brook fishing. 

We have learned two things, however : first, 
that three or four feet of line are better than a 
dozen, when fishing along these wooded streams, 
and that a quick but quiet jerk is more likely to 
bring up a fish than a furious one. 

If we learn as much as this every time we lose 
a fish, we shall, no doubt, go back to the summit 
shanty at night, with the prospect of enjoying a 
good trout supper, and with the proud conscious^ 
ness of having a very respectable fish story to 
relate to Bill Harris when we get home. 

If the next morning is pleasant, there is a pros- 
pect of one of the most delightful days yet spent 
among the mountains, for the quiet beauties of 
the Franconias are all to be seen, and most of 
them can be easily seen in one day. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 47 

One of the most pleasant sensations about 
these excursions, to one s'tarting off, lively and 
spirited, in the cool of early morning, is that of 
entire freedom from the care and worry of ordi- 
nary life. 

What does it matter whether gold is inf or 
II I J? Cotton may be light and rising, but it 
cannot be lighter than our spirits ; while sugar 
may be depressed and gunny-bags dull without 
having any corresponding effect upon our feel- 
ings. 

Old Granny Brown may have the pip, and 
need a bread pill, but her complaints can't reach 
our ears ; or, if we chance to belong to the cleri- 
cal profession, we shall find that we left our He- 
brew roots and knotty doctrines at home with 
our black coats and ministerial neck-ties. 

Echo Lake is the first point of interest reached 
after leaving camp, and it is well worthy of the 
hour devoted to it. A perfect sparkling gem it 
is, set in the green and gray of the surrounding 
mountains, which in some places rise perpendic- 
ularly from the water's edge. But as the name 



48 



OUR VACATIONS. 



indicates, the echo is the attraction of the little 
lake,, for the mountains are placed at such 
an angle that the report of a pistol or a blast 
from the huge tin horn which the guide carries, 
is caught and played at shuttlecock, by them, 
thrown from one to the other, time after time, 
until at length the poor little noise is entirely 
worn out, and dies away in the distance. 

Half a mile from Echo Lake is the Profile 
House, and a few rods beyond (forty, we be- 
lieve, is the exact number) is the best place to 
view the " Old Man of the Mountains" for whom 
the hotel was named. The old gentleman is of 
a very modest, retiring nature, and as he can 
not very well retreat from the vulgar gaze, he 
often draws a cloudy veil over his features. 

Should he be propitious, however, and show 
himself, we could sit for hours on the rough 
little seat which has been erected by the road- 
side, and gaze on his rocky profile, as the 
lights and shadows play over it, far up there 
in cloudland, thinking of Whittier's graphic 
lines, — 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 49 

"Like a sun-rimmed cloud 
The great Notch Mountains shone, 
Watched over by that solemn browed 
And awful face of stone," — 

as well as of many other sublime and poetic 
things ; and endeavoring to get all the glimpses 
we can of the " Old Man's " face, as we continue 
our walk towards the Flume. 

The next object of interest reached is the 
" Basin," which is hollowed out of the solid rock 
as smoothly and regularly as though just from 
the shop of a city plumber. Though it looks 
scarcely six feet deep, and the whole bottom 
can be distinctly seen, the natives (relying doubt- 
less upon the well-known gullibility of tourists) 
tdl wonderful stories in regard to its depth. 
It is a very .moderate guide who falls short of 
forty feet. 

Four or five miles below the Profile House 
stands the Flume House, and not far from here 
we take a path which the guide-board tells us 
leads to " The Fool ; " for we are determined to 
investigate to-day all the natural curiosities that 
lie in our way. 
4 



50 OUR VACATIONS. 

The Pool is simply an enlarged basin, with 
more turbid water, and of a less perfect shape. 
The most curious thing connected with the 
Pool is the grizzly old philosopher who spends 
his summers beside it, dispensing maple sugar 
and lemonade to all visitors. Besides com- 
pounding for us a very good pitcher of lemon- 
ade, this modern Aristotle (he can hardly be 
called a peripatetic philosopher, however, for 
he rows rather than walks about) will invite 
us to take seats in his boat, and for the moderate 
consideration of twenty-five cents, he will ex- 
plain to us his theory of cosmography while 
he rows us slowly about the Pool. 

This cosmography of his is simply a rehash 
of Captain Symmes's theory of concentric cir- 
cles, and is based on the singular fancy that 
the earth is hollow, and inhabited inside, where 
continents correspond to seas upon the out- 
side, and vice versa. Our interterrestrial cousins 
are supplied with air and sunlight, according 
to this philosopher, by means of big holes at 
either pole ; and in his opinion they lead very 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 51 

much the same kind of lives as we poor mortals 
do upon the outside. Our philosophic boatman 
supports his romantic notions with various 
arguments (among which the Caspian Sea, 
which has no outlet, and the tropical plants 
which have been found far within the borders 
of the arctic circle, figure largely), and illustrates 
them with diagrams of the earth, as he v^ould 
have it, painted upon a smooth rock, which 
walls in one side of the Pool. 

To those who wish to investigate the mys- 
teries of cosmography still farther, our friend 
will sell a small pamphlet, which he has written 
upon this subject, to which he has appended 
a string of recommendations from the late 
sovereign of France, the emperor of China, 
and other potentates, high and mighty, all of 
which were doubtless sent in a batch by some 
waggish rogue. 

Not more than half a mile distant from the 
Pool is the Flume, the goal of this day's walk, 
and decidedly the most remarkable sight yet 
found among the mountains. The straight, 



52 OUR VACATIONS. 

narrow passage, the lofty walls of rock which 
tower on either side, as though built by some 
Titanic mason, the rushing, boiling brook be- 
neath our feet, the immense boulder caught be- 
tween the walls of the Flume directly over 
our heads, which it seems as though a breath 
would send crashing down, — all conspire to 
produce an impression which no other moun- 
tain scene has produced. 

But the garden of Eden had its serpent ; and 
the Flume, as well as every other place in the 
mountains, has its pest in the shape of a mos- 
quito or midge. Our ancestors used to be- 
lieve that the father of lies appeared to them 
in various shapes, as a goat, or hare, or black 
cat; had they lived among the White Moun- 
tains, they would have embodied him in a mos- 
quito, or midge, or black fly. 

It is singular what a small affair will bring 
you tumbling down from the sublime to the 
ridiculous. You may be gazing awe-struck upon 
the wonderful beauties of the Flume ; grand 
and poetic thoughts are coursing through your 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 53 

soul, when, suddenly, a mosquito settles upon 
the end of your nose, or a midge insinuates 
himself into the back of your neck ; instantly 
the sublime and beautiful vanish, the bitten 
member becomes the centre of sensation, and 
fruitless assaults upon the offending insect take 
the place of rapt meditation on the beauties of 
Nature. 

This is one of the ills of camp life which 
can't be cured, and so must be endured with 
the best grace possible. We kill a hundred of 
our tormentors, and a thousand will come to 
the funeral ; we smear our hands and faces with 
kerosene oil, but, while it greatly offends our 
own senses, the mosquitos seem to prefer 
their blood-puddings flavored with petroleum. 
We hear all sorts of herbs and unguents recom- 
mended, and apply a liberal quantity to our 
devoted features. The midges are attracted 
all the more, and revel in the pennyroyal, or 
catnip, or camphor, as though the odor and 
flavor were as agreeable as possible. The 
only thing which these ubiquitous insects seem 



54 OUR VACATIONS. 

to dislike is a thick smudge of black smoke ; 
and as this can easily be raised, with the aid 
of an old milk-pan and some damp chips, we 
can be tolerably free from these mountain pests 
at the expense of turning ourselves into well- 
seasoned hams. 

We have now seen the principal points of 
interest about the Franconia Notch, and, if we 
take one more day to ascend Mount Lafayette, 
we can feel that we have " done " the moun- 
tains quite thoroughly. 

There are many more charming places to 
visit, to be sure, and many more mountain 
peaks to scale, among which we might spend 
several delightful weeks ; but already we have 
seen the points of most note, and a great deal 
more than many of those who spend ten times 
as much money on their summer vacation. 

Then, if we are all agreed that it is time to 
start for home, we will roll up our blankets, 
stow away the small remnant of our provisions 
in the hard tack barrel, and, with a cheer for 
the Summit shanty which has so kindly sheltered 



HO IV TO ENJOY THEM. 55 

us for the past few days, we will be off down 
the mountain. 

Should we wish to vary our homeward route, 
we can turn to the south-west instead of the 
south-east. In this case, the first camp should 
be in Landaff, and the second in Haverhill, 
where we strike the Connecticut River. 

Of course, if any of the party are utterly dis- 
gusted with " roughing it," they can here take 
the cars, which, for a few^ dollars, will land 
them near their homes. But if the vote is for 
camp life still, as, no doubt, it will be, it will 
be found that no part of the trip has been 
pleasanter than this journey down the valley of 
the lovely " v/illow-fringed Connecticut." 

Now see what the trip has cost us, and never 
again say that you cannot afford to go to the 
mountains. 

Horse at one dollar per day for three 

weeks, . . . . $31.00 

Wagon, ..... 5.00 

Hard tack and other provisions, . 22.00 



;j6 OUR VACATIONS. 



Tent and stove hire, 


4.00 


Feed for horse on the way, 


12.00 


Provisions bought on the way, 


15.00 


Plates and cooking utensils. 


3.00 


Incidentals, . . . 


8.00 



Total, . . • . . . . $90.00 

This sum, divided among six individuals, 
makes each one's share of the expenses fifteen 
dollars, for a three weeks' excursion to the 
White Mountains. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 57 



CHAPTER III. 

TO CANADA. — MONTREAL. — QJJEBEC. — OTTA- 
WA. — RIVER ST. LAWRENCE. 

If you were ever a small boy, and if at that 
time you studied common school geography, you 
must often have gazed at the variegated sections 
of pigment which are supposed to indicate to the 
youthful mind the various countries of Europe, 
and wished yourself in the very middle of those 
countries. Do you remember how one yel- 
low patch, standing for England, represented to 
your juvenile imagination the great Tower of 
London, and the British Museum, and the Tunnel 
under the Thames? Do you remember how gay 
Paris, with its Notre Dame, and Tuileries, and 
all its other wonders, whose names you couldn't 
pronounce, peeped out at you from the green 
section which was bounded by the Alps and the 



58 OUR VACATIONS. 

Pyrenees? and how you always heard the great 
bell of Moscow and the big guns of the Krem- 
lin thunder out whenever you looked at that 
large spot of blue paint called Russia? And do 
you remember how you longed, with all your 
heart and soul, to see these wonders in reality? 

If any boy has not had these thoughts and 
desires, let us pity his unimaginative little soul, 
arnd predict for him that future which people so 
expressively imply, when they say, '* He is a 
\eYy g-ood man, but he will never set the river on 
fire." To be sure, many men lose their desires 
for travel when they get out of their teens, and 
would not exchange their w^alk through State 
Street for any Boulevards of Paris ; but there are 
many more who are as eager to visit Europe in. 
manhood as when they first dog-eared their ge- 
ography in the school-room, but who are kept 
at home by the thousand leagues of brine which 
roll between the two continents, and by the in- 
surmountable barrier to bridging over this gulf 
which a lean pocket-book presents. 

To all such Canada invitingly offers itself. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 59 

Here are France and England combined in a 
small way. To be sure, you will not find the 
Louvre or St. Paul's, and the patois will neither 
be purely Parisian nor thoroughly Cockney ; but 
in many respects you will see very good repre- 
sentatives of the two great old world countries 
in this new world province. For instance, when 
you step off the cars at Montreal, you will notice 
that the streets named St. Jean and St. Pierre, as 
well as St. John and St. Peter, and that the Rue 
Josephine and Notre Dame run side by side 
with Dorchester and Main Streets. 

At one store you step into, you will get per- 
fectly distracted with the volley of French sen- 
tences which the voluble Celt shoots out at you, 
while in the next the stout John Bull, in gray 
clothes and bushy side-whiskers, will inform 
you, perchance, that the portrait you are looking 
at is a " 'andsome picture of Prince Harthur, 
done hin Hindia hink." 

It is one of an author's privileges to take it for 
granted that his readers agree with him in all 
his assumptions, even if he hasn't attempted to 



6o OUR VACATIONS. 

prove them very conclusively ; therefore it is 
assumed, without arguing the point any farther, 
that Canada is a most desirable place in w^hich 
to spend a summer vacation, and it only remains 
to tell how and for what expense the sights of 
the New Dominion can be seen. 

And first we shall want to purchase a round- 
trip ticket by one of the great railroad lines 
which connect Canada with the United States. 

The price of these tickets varies slightly from 
year to 3'ear, but as a general thing, an excursion 
ticket can be bought from Boston to Montreal 
and return for twenty dollars, and to Quebec and 
return for twenty-two dollars. 

Other things being equal, it is better to pur- 
chase tickets by way of the Boston and Lowell 
and the Central Vermont railroads ; as by this 
route we shall be sure of obliging officials, 
smooth road-beds, and easy-running cars, — ad- 
vantages which all roads cannot boast, by any 
means. But of course, in. the case of such pov- 
erty-stricken persons as we are supposed now to 
De, a few jolts and jounces more or less do not 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 6i 

matter much if many dollars can be saved by 
enduring them ; so we shall go by the line which 
offers to take us to Montreal the cheapest. 

And just here, before stepping aboard the 
train, a few words in advance in regard to the 
expense. An interesting letter from Montreal, 
lately published, closed by saying that "with 
due economy the trip might be taken for a hun- 
dred dollars." Why, my dear sir, with due 
economy the trip may be taken for half that 
sum ! 

But do you say, " Then must we be close, and 
count every copper, and live in a mean sort of a 
way generally?" By no means. To be sure, we 
cannot indulge in a great many game suppers, 
or eat sandwiches filled with bank bills, a la 
Lord Timothy Dexter ; but the routes of travel 
are just the same, the rivers just as broad, the 
mountains just as grand, and the scenery just as 
novel to tlie poor man as to the rich. The ho- 
tels we shall stop at may not be nearly as expen- 
sive, but they may be guaranteed equal in solid 
comfort to those which our rich neighbors pat- 
ronize. 



62 OUR VACATIONS. 

No doubt it would be pleasant to scatter the 
greenbacks right and left ; to buy a black silk for 
aunt Jane, and a set of jewelry for Mary Ann, 
and a whole toy-shop for little Joe, — in short, to 
have no care or anxiety on the financial score ; 
and when " our ship comes in," or " our uncle 
from India" arrives, we shall doubtless travel in 
this way ; but until the hypothetical uncle or 
ship actually comes, will it not be better to take 
a cheap excursion than to have no summer 
vacation at all ? 

Again assuming that there is a unanimous vote 
in agreement with these sentiments, we will step 
aboard the w^aiting train in the magnificent new 
Lowell Railroad station. The clock points to the 
hour of starting, the conductor shouts, "All 
aboard ! " and off we are. 

By the spindle cities of Lowell, Nashua, and 
Manchester we roll, beside the busy Merrimac, 
picturesque and lovely still, though it is defiled 
by so many mill-wheels, and regarded by so 
many sordid eyes as only so much " water- 
power." 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 63 

Through New Hampshire's capital, on and 
on, we are whirled, through the heart of the 
Granite State, catching many ghmpses of far- 
away mountains, green valleys, and white vil- 
lages ; and a little after noon we cross the Con- 
necticut, and make our first stop of any length 
at White River Junction, Vermont. " Half an 
hour for dinner," and then we again take our 
seats in the cars for a ride through the green 
hills of stanch Vermont. The scenery in the 
neighborhood of Waterbury and Montpelier is 
particularly striking, and we shall be tempted to 
stop there instead of proceeding. 

By supper time we shall reach St. Albans ; and 
no one knows better how to supply our gastro- 
nomic wants than Mr. Dunton, whose gong will 
call us to his attractive dining-room in the station. 

Montreal is less than three hours' ride farther 
on, most of it over Canadian soil, — and a most 
flat, uninteresting ride it is. The monotony 
is broken, however, by the flourishing village of 
St. John, with its big river and numerous vessels ; 
and soon the green waters of the St. Lawrence 



64 OUR VACATIONS. 

heave in sight (as we should say, were this a 
nautical novel), as well as that masterpiece of 
bridge-building which spans it. 

During the ten dark minutes which are occu- 
pied in crossing the Victoria Bridge, there is 
time to call to mind all the dark-tunnel stories, 
tragic and comic, which a thorough acquaint- 
ance with railroad literature will supply. We 
are so near our destination, too, that it is time to 
think of what hotel we shall make our head- 
quarters while in the city ; for as the principal 
choice, in Canadian cities, between first and sec- 
ond class hotels, is in the number of dollars ^^z- 
diem we shall be obliged to pay, it will be well 
to know beforehand how much our bill will be. 

St. Lawrence Hall is the highest priced house, 
and next comes the Ottawa Hotel, pleasantly 
situated on St. James Street. The price of 
either of these houses would justify the name 
" first class," though the accommodations would 
hardly substantiate the claim ; at least, according 
to "American" notions. 

And here we must rise to explain, that Cana- 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 6^ 

dians universally denominate their cousins of 
the States " Americans," as distinguished from 
natives of the Dominion ; as though they them- 
selves lived in Malacca or Van Diemen's Land, 
or anyw^hcre, indeed, but in America. But to 
return to the subject of hotels. Almost equal 
in other respects to those we have mentioned, 
and w^ith charges about half as great, is another 
class of public houses, such as the Albion, 
Montreal, and Recollet ; the Albion is as good 
as any, and guests of this house will probably 
be dissatisfied neither with the accommodations 
nor with the price. 

Montreal, though a pleasant city, is not one 
in which we shall care to linger a great while, 
for the very reason that we shall here find little 
that is novel and strange to our eyes, accustomed 
to New England cities. Montreal is simply 
an undersized Boston. The streets here, to 
be sure, are not so well paved as in the " Hub," 
neither are there as niany fine residences and 
business houses, nor are the sidewalks as 
crowded as in our " modern Athens ;" but the 
5 . 



ee OUR VACATIONS. 

same spirit of commerce and business enterprise, 
which gives life to our own cities, has touched 
this Canadian metropolis as well ; the quaint 
French element is nearly swallowed up in the 
bustling, busy Anglo-Saxon, and very creditably 
might Montreal pass for a half-grown Boston, 
and St. James Street or Notre Dame for a 
juvenile Washington Street or Tremont Row. 
There are just four sights, and only four, as far 
as we have been able to learn, which are par- 
ticularly worth visiting, namely : The French 
Cathedral (Notre Dame), the Jesuit Church, 
the Gray Nunnery, and Mount Royal, with 
the ride around it. 

The first of these attractions is certainly a 
majestic building ; it is one, too, whose great- 
ness grows upon you the more you look upon 
its massive towers, and gaze down its long aisles. 
Always open is this great church (like all the 
Catholic churches), and always is there a 
stream of humanity pouring through it, now 
stopping here to touch the precious (dirty) 
holy water, now there to bow before some cru- 



I/O IV TO ENJOY THEM, 6^ 

cifix or image, and again to kneel at some sacred 
shrine. 

" The largest church in America, holding 
ten thousand people," says our veracious guide- 
book, speaking of this church, both cf which 
statements we should be very much inclined to 
doubt, were it allowable for a traveller to doubt 
his guide-book. 

But " No disputing the umpire," as the rule 
is in base ball ; so " No doubting the guide- 
book" must oftentimes be our rule in travel- 
ling, since no higher authority presents itself by 
way of verification. But it is not the long, dim 
aisles, nor the burning candles and swinging 
censers, nor yet the saints in blue and gold, 
which make one or two hours spent in the 
great cathedral so attractive ; but it is the liv- 
ing stream before alluded to. 

Here comes a day laborer in his blue blouse, 
and brick-dust overalls ; close behind him fol- 
lows a richly-dressed young lady, evidently 
from the " upper ten" of French society. There 
sits a pale, faded, weary-looking woman, such 



6S OUR .VACATIONS. 

a one as we always imagine in a close, attic 
room, with an interminable pile of plain sew- 
ing beside her. Not far from her, perhaps, 
sits a fat, jolly market woman, with fun and 
laughter gleaming out of her dark French 
eyes, though she is counting her beads so de- 
voutly. Here and there a sleek, black-robed 
priest is gliding silently about, waving his in- 
cense, or praying with clasped hands for some 
departed soul, who was so stout a sinner dur- 
ing his lifetime that he needs an additional 
paternoster now to free him from purgatory. 

Yet all alike, priest and people, saint and 
sinner, rich and poor, seem to worship with 
reverence and humility ; all cross themselves 
devoutly at the same spot, and all seem to have 
come in from some other motive than curiosity, 
or to see the fashions. On our way out we 
shall be solicited to go up into one of the 
great towers of the cathedral which mark its 
resemblance to its namesake in Paris. The 
magnificent view of the city which we obtain 
from the top of the tower is well worth the 



BO IV TO ENJOY THEM. 69 

twenty-five cents, which we are charged for an 
entrance fee, to say nothing of a sight of the great 
bell, which is said, and probably with truth, to 
be the largest in the new world. This mon- 
strous bell weighs thirty thousand pounds, and 
to be once thrilled by its thunderous bass tones 
is almost enough of itself to repay a visit to 
Montreal. 

The church of the Jesuits, though smaller and 
far less imposing outside than Notre Dame, is 
incomparably more beautiful within. 

The walls and ceiling are covered with 
frescoes representing events in the life of Christ 
and his apostles ; and though we have heard 
would-be artists complain, in a hypercritical 
way, that these frescoes were mere daubs, 
scarce worthy of a glance, yet for me and the 
great majority of ordinary travellers whom 
we represent, these " daubs " will appear true 
works of art, and the church which contains 
them, with its paintings and frescoes, and 
brilliant windows, and numerous confessionals, 
is a wonderful church indeed. 



7o OUR VACATIONS. 

The Gray Nunnery is the next place we will 
visit, and we must time it so as to reach the con- 
vent about noon, for then the sisters will all be 
assembled in the chapel, and we shall have a 
better chance to peep into their meek faces, hid- 
den away back in their stift' and spotless hoods, 
and to see their forms of worship, than at any 
other time. 

Everything about the nunnery is immaculately 
neat and nice, and in the uniforms of gray we 
discover many sweet, spiritual faces, which 
contrast favorably with the coarse features of the 
priests, many of whom, evidently, do not consider 
high living and good cheer incompatible with 
their sacred office. Still, as we leave the convent, 
a feeling of relief comes over us, as though we 
had escaped from a chilling prison air ; and we 
are more convinced than ever that one good 
home fireside, with the love and happiness which 
cluster around it, is worth more than the sanctity 
of all the convents and nunneries in the world. 

By " the mountain," in Montreal, is meant 
Mount Royal, a sizable hill behind the city, 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 71 

which, clothed with foliage to its very top, forms 
a fine background for the city to which it gave a 
name. 

A ride around "the mountain" we shall 
doubtless desire to take ; and then, when we have 
spent half a day in walking about the streets, 
admiring the few fine buildings of which Mont- 
real is justly proud, gazing at the beautiful 
bronze statue of the queen, and becoming ac- 
quainted with the John Bull faces which we 
meet, we shall be ready to step on board one of 
the fine steamers of the Richelieu Company for 
Qiiebec. For those who have not a round trip 
ticket, the fare will be three dollars and fifty cents, 
meals and berths seventy-five cents each, extra. 
The boats run only in the night, and there will 
naturally be a feeling of disappointment, at first, 
at the thought of sailing through this one hundred 
and eighty miles of St. Lawrence scenery under 
cover of darkness ; but a glance at the monotony 
of the low, wooded shores, which stretch all the 
way between these two Canadian cities, will rec- 
oncile us to the comfortable night which we shall 



72 OUR VACATIONS. 

pass in the state-rooms of the "Quebec" or 
" Montreal." 

Early the next morning the whistle will sound 
our approach to the walled city of America ; and 
going on deck, we find ourselves at the foot of a 
precipice, on the top of which are perched houses, 
and walls, and churches, and fortifications, all 
huddled together, as though the heavens had 
opened, some fine morning, and dropped a city 
all ready made upon this barren rock. 

As we step off the boat and into the street, 
empty and silent as yet, it is so earl}^, we feel 
almost awestruck, and half imagine that this is 
an enchanted city, sleeping through its century, 
until some Prince Perfect shall break the spell. 
Our fancy is not so far from the truth either, for 
the dull old city might as well be asleep, so little 
does it improve or change from year to year. 

Prince Perfect frequently arrives, however, in 
the shape of a rich American ; and then the whole 
city is roused from its lethargy, and sets system- 
atically to work to fleece him. And a Col- 
chian fleece they generally find he yields. 



I/O IV TO ENJOY THEM, 73 

In fact, this gouging of Americans has been 
reduced to a science in Qiiebec. We go into a 
store for a pair of gloves. The polite clerk will 
pocket our two dollars without remorse, while 
for the very same article he would not think of 
charging his Canuck customer more than half 
that price. 

The St. Louis Hotel, the only first-rate one in 
the city, will coolly charge us three dollars and 
fifty cents a day, and the Canadian who came on 
the same boat with us it will charge one dollar 
and fifty cents or two dollars. 

For this reason we will not stop at the St. 
Louis, but patronize Henchy's, a much less pre- 
tentious house, which charges only one dollar 
and fifty cents ^^r dietn. 

A good breakfast will best prepare us for a 
day of sight-seeing, and before w^e go out we 
will ask our landlord what are the principal 
sights of the city« 

" The Citadel, Plains of Abraham, and the 
Falls of Moritmorenci." he will undoubtedly 
reply. 



74 



OUR VACATIONS. 



Next we accost an Irishmen with the same 
question. 

" Can you tell us the most interesting places 
to visit about the city?" 

" Sure, an' I can. It's the Citidil, an' the Plains 
of Abraham, and Montmorenci, that ye want to 
say." 

To a Frenchman, perhaps, we next address 
the same interrogation. 

" Monsieur would know ze chef places of in- 
tereest. Tres bien. He moost visete ze Plains 
of Abraham, and ze Ceetadel, — ah, ze Ceetadel 
and ze Falls of Montmorenci." 

So we conclude to visit the Citadel, the Heights 
of Abraham, and Montmorenci Falls, and to ask 
no more questions, since they seem to afford us 
no additional scrap of information. 

But, after all, these siglits, though necessarily 
most written and spoken about, are not what 
best repay us for visiting Qiiebec. 

It is the indescribable air of quaintness, an- 
tiquity, and foreignness which most attracts us — 
the solemn stone houses, the steep roofs, and 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 75 

precipitous streets, rising tier upon tier above 
each other, in a line so nearly perpendicular, 
that from one sidewalk you can look straight 
down the chimneys of the houses on the street 
below you. Then we are interested in the sur- 
rounding wall of masonry, which every now and 
then bounds our street, and which links this 
only walled city of America to the mediaeval 
towns of another continent ; and all these sights 
conspire to remove us in spirit four thousand 
miles to the east and four hundred years into 
the past. 

Here, too, the people are different from any 
we have met before. Unlike Montreal and other 
cities of the Dominion, the French element 
largely predominates. 

John Smith must here announce himself as 
"Advocate" on one side of his office door, and 
'" Avocat" on the other. 

" Traverse de Chemin " stares at us from the 
railroad crossings ; and we see many old friends 
in new dresses j^osted on the fences and walls. 



76 OUR VACATIONS, 

For instance, even if our French is rather rusty^ 
we are not slow in recognizing "Pastilles Bron- 
chales de Brown," or " Remedies Rapide de 
Radway." 

But while we are making all these observa- 
tions, wise and otherwise, we may as well be on 
our way to some point of special interest, which 
in the first place will undoubtedly be " the 
Citadel." 

Numerous hackmen are certain to be in wait- 
ing, as we emerge from the hotel, each urging 
the claims of his particular vehicle upon our 
notice, in a most persistent and obstreperous man- 
ner ; but we shall resist their importunity if we 
are wise, for the short walk which will take us 
to all the historic points about the city, will be 
pleasanter than a ride this bright morning, to say 
nothing of the three dollars and fifty cents which 
we shall save thereby. 

Perhaps we should here say, that the hackmen 
will try hard to make us believe that there are a 
dozen places we want to visit in Qiiebec, and 
will supply us with printed lists of these places. 



• I/O IV TO ENJOY THEM. 77 

But several of these are Catholic churches, 
which are simply imitations of Montreal cathe- 
drals, on a much smaller and poorer scale. Still 
there are one or two other battle-fields and 
historic points, which .we shall like to visit before 
leaving the city. 

One card, which an importunate hackman is 
perhaps still distributing to visitors, pathetically 
referred to the spot " where Montgomery was 
laid out." 

Whether this designated the place where the 
brave general was prepared for burial, or was a 
slang expression to denote the defeat of the 
Americans, under General Montgomery, in i776> 
is a matter of conjecture ; yet the former expla- 
nation is the more likely, since it is not easy to 
believe that a joke ever found its way into or out 
of the head of a Quebec hackman. 

The Citadel is only about half a mile from our 
hotel, in a south-westerly direction. Through a 
long, winding way we walk, wailed in on both 
sides by high, massive, granite fortifications, 
while here and there we see tomb-like iron doors 



^8 OUR VACATIONS. 

opening into the bank, which are the entrances to 
the bomb-proof magazines. 

By and by we come to the arched gate-way of 
the Citadel ; and here, if we ask permission to see 
the fortress, the red-coated sentry will send an- 
other red-coat to show us about the grounds. A 
half hour spent in wandering over the Citadel 
will give one a very good idea of " the terrible 
enginery of war." Everything looks belligerent 
— the massive walls, built to withstand a thousand 
bombs, the pyramidal piles of balls and shells, 
the glistening stacks of arms, and, above all, the 
great guns. Just now, it is true, they are bask- 
ing their huge black bodies in the morning sun, 
peacefully enough ; but it is evident that at any 
moment they are ready to belch out destruction 
from a hundred grinning mouths upon any hos- 
tile vessel which might attempt the passage of 
the river. 

The view from the parapet is superb. On the 
right is Point Levis, with its fortifications, ready 
to aid the Citadel in its deadly work. On the 
left stretch the gently-rounded Beauport Hills ; 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 79 



far away in the blue distance, and nearer at hand 
as well, the St. Charles comes winding slowly 
down to meet the St. Lawrence ; while directly 
beneath our feet lies the sleepy old city, which, 
encircled by its zigzag wall, looks as though it 
might have remained unaltered since the day 
when Charlevoix first landed on the banks of the 
St. Charles, more than two and a half centuries 
ago. 

Our soldier-guide will point out, among the 
other prison-like structures of the upper town, 
the old Parliament Buildings and Laval Uni- 
versity ; and we shall notice the piles of lum- 
ber, and innumerable rafts, which give quite an 
air of life and activity to the lower town. 

In former years a very large garrison was sta- 
tioned at Qiiebec ; but gradually the troops have 
been withdrawn, until now only one hundred and 
sixty red-eoats guard the Citadel. 

A walk of a mile farther beyond the fortress 
brings us to historic ground, for these level, 
green cow-pastures, which surround us after we 



So OUR VACATIONS, 

pass the toll-gate, are none other than the 
far-famed " Plains of Abraham." 

On the left hand side of the road is Wolfe's 
monument, with this grandly simple inscription, 
in memory of the hero who sleeps beneath : — 

HERE DIED 
WOLFE 

VICTORIOUS 
SEPT 13TH 1759 

Very strongly does this battle-ground impress 
us, since man has encroached but little upon 
nature, and we look upon the same scenes that 
saw the hostile armies of France and England 
marshalled against each other a hundred years 
ago and more. 

Here are the same steep, slippery banks of 
clay which the British army found it so difficult 
to scale ; the same dark forest in the background, 
stretching off indefinitely towards the west, and 
the same green pastures that then drank the 
blood of Celt and Saxon. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 8i 

Now is made clear the wisdom of not yield- 
ing to the blandishments of the hackmen, who 
wished to " show the sights." What pleasure 
would there be in visiting these historic heights 
in the company of a human parrot jabbering 
away in broken English the story which all 
learned in their school-days ? How could one 
grow heroic in soul, thinking of the two great com- 
manders who, just here, where we are standing, 
fought so bravely and died so nobly, when all 
the time an eternal French tongue is sounding 
the well-learned story of their praise in one's 
ears ! No ! No ! Let us have no guides or 
hackmen about us at such a place. 

In the heart of the city stands a granite shaft, 
inscribed on one side with the name of Mont- 
calm ; on the other with that of Wolfe. Thus 
most appropriately has a single monument been 
erected to the two hostile generals, whose equal 
courage, patriotism, and skill deserve the same 
memorial. The inscription on the monument 
reads, — 

6 



82 OUR VACATIONS. 

MORTEM. VIRTVS. COMMVNEM. 

FAMAM. HISTORIA. 
MONVMENTVM. POSTERITAS. 
DEDIT.* 

To vary our route back to the city, we can cut 
across the fields to the St. Foy road, which runs 
parallel with the St. Louis, by which we came 
out. 

About a mile from the city, on the St. Foy 
road, is an iron pillar, surmounted by a bronze 
statue, raised to commemorate the resting-place 
of a number of French soldiers, whose bones, a 
few years ago, were collected and placed beneath 
this monument. 

Now we have seen two of the lions of Que- 
bec ; but the Falls of Montmorenci remain to be 
visited, before we can conscientiously say, " Veni, 
vidi." These famous falls are eight miles from 
the city ; and the best way of getting there is by 
chartering one of the strange-looking vehicles 

* Their valor caused their death ; History gave them 
equal renown; Posterity a monument. 



ffOIV TO ENJOY THEM. 83 

called calashes. The driver will charge us a dol- 
lar and a half for the ride to the falls, if we make 
a bargain with him in advance, and the novel sen- 
sation of a calash-ride will be fully worth the 
money, to say nothing of the waterfall for which 
we are bound. 

To vary a well-known apothegm, " Show 
me the carriages of a people, and I will tell you 
of their civilization." The calasli, used no- 
where in America except in Quebec, shows 
plainly that the old city has dropped behind the 
rest of the world a hundred years, and still 
belongs to the eighteenth century. This anti- 
quated vehicle has two wheels, which make up 
in size for an}" lack in number, and two seats, 
one narrow one for the driver in front, and 
another one behind, broader, and very high, for 
the passengers. 

With a hop, skip, and jump we manage to 
reach our elevated perch behind the driver. 
The person who has never been in one before, at 
first holds on to the sides for dear life, im.agining 
that he is riding on a camel's hump, or up in a 



84 OUR VACATIONS. 

balloon, or anywhere, indeed, but in a sober, old- 
fashioned carriage, much more antiquated than 
the deacon's one-horse shay. But after being 
bounced and jolted safely through a hundred 
mud-holes, with which the wretched streets of 
Quebec are filled, he begins to gain confidence, 
and quite to enjoy his elevated position. The 
raw-boned nag shows his best paces under a vig- 
orous application of the driver's whip, and we 
bounce out of the city, and over the substantial 
bridge which spans the St. Charles, in quite a 
lively manner. 

The country all along the route seems very 
fertile and well cultivated, while the scenery is 
magnificent. On one side rise the lovely hills 
of Beauport, on the other rolls the broad, irre- 
sistible current of the great river. Occasionally 
the French driver, if we are so unfortunate as to 
have one, ventures an unintelligible remark of 
explanation, and we return a grunt that is meant 
to be appreciative ; but, on the whole, efforts at 
conversation with him are failures, and we soon 
relapse into complete silence. 



HO IV TO ENJOY THEM. 85 

This is not wholly a misfortune, however ; for 
there is plenty to interest and amuse by the road- 
side — the queer little stone cottages, with steep 
roofs turned up near the eaves ; the gaudy little 
churches, evidently the objects of much respect 
and veneration ; the crosses and crucifixes by the 
roadside ; the women in the fields working out a 
practical solution of the w^oman's rights question, 
while their husbands, loafing quietly at home, sit 
on their doorsteps, engaged in the arduous duty 
of smoking dirty clay pipes. 

Indeed, the women here seem to do all the 
work, from tending the baby to ploughing the 
cornfield ; and of the hundred field laborers 
whom we shall see between Quebec and Mont- 
morenci, probably nine tenths of them will be 
brawny Amazons. 

Another thing which will strike the stranger 
as singular will be the great number of beggars 
of all ages and descriptions. The aptitude of the 
Latin races for begging is wonderful. With 
them anything which will excite the sympathy 
pf a stranger is invaluable. 



S6 OUR VACATIONS. 

A club foot or hunch back is a fortune in itself, 
while a wooden leg or a blind eye is just so much 
stock in trade. 

From a dozen houses along the road, little girls 
will emerge with a glass of water in one hand 
and a worthless bouquet of dandelions and white- 
weed in the other, hoping that we shall drink the 
water, and then feel obliged to buy the bouquet 
with a ninepence or a shilling. Little boys will 
run before the calash for rods, holding out 
chubby hands in a beseeching manner, while 
stout men will sit in their doorways, and present 
their hats, as we ride by, with the most perfect 
" sick-wife-and-seven-fatherless-children " expres- 
sion on their faces that was ever invented. 

After about an hour's ride, our calash will 
draw up in front of one of the French cottages, 
and after registering our names within, a small 
boy will be sent to show us the falls. 

Not that a small boy is at all necessary ; on the 
other hand, he is a decided nuisance, since he 
speaks nothing but French, and our attempts to 
find out the height of the falls, or the length of the 



HO IV TO ENJOY THEM. S'/ 

river, or any other little item, is a most aggravat- 
ing failure ; but, then, we are expected to give our 
mite of a guide a silver bit when we leave him, 
and this imposition is of a piece with a dozen 
other extortions which will be practised. 

For, say what you will about Yankee shrewd- 
ness and greed of gain. Brother Jonathan is far 
outdone, in this respect, by his cousin across the 
line. 

For instance, though we pay our driver a 
good price for our ride, he obliges us to pay all 
the tolls over the bridges and turnpikes ; then, 
when we reach the falls, a quarter of a dollar is 
demanded before we can enter the narrow gate 
which is the only entrance to the cataract ; neither 
is our Jehu satisfied yet with the fleece he has 
plucked, but, when he has at length landed us 
safely in Qiiebec, and we come to settle for our ca- 
lash, he demands, with a piteous whine, that w^e 
" remember the driver," which we assure him we 
will do to our dying day, and never hire him again, 
should we come to Qiiebec a thousand times. 

However, when we actually catch a glimpse 



88 OUR VACATIONS. 

of the charming Montmorenci Fall, our annoy- 
ances \yill disappear with the mist which rises 
from the cataract's foot. 

A leap of two hundred and fifty feet sheer 
down does the Montmorenci take over the ledge 
of friable stone, unbroken by a single projecting 
rock, while at the base of the ledge the little 
river is entirely broken up and lost in a seeth- 
ing caldron of foam and spray, and rainbow 
colored mist, part of which rises up again two 
hundred and fifty feet, to the bank above, seek- 
ing the spot from which it fell. 

Soon, however, the river recovers from its fall, 
collects its scattered forces, and flows on quietly 
enough to the broad St. Lawrence, which waits 
for it only a fe\y rods below. 

Having seen the falls, we are ready to bid 
good by to Qiiebec, unless we care to spend 
another day in the cathedrals and convents, view- 
ing the relics of departed saints, and the wor- 
ship paid them by living sinners. 

We shall be strongly tempted now, unless 
our purse is already much exhausted, to turn our 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 89 



faces northward and Saguenay-ward. A visit to 
the Saguenay would add about fifteen dollars to 
our expenses ; but the trip need not be described, 
since much has recently been written upon it, 
and since the present plan is to visit another 
section of the Dominion. 

And now, the excursion to Montreal and Que- 
bec being finished, and as we do not mean to 
'• go it blind " in regard to our financial con- 
dition, let us reckon up what this vacation in 
Canada has cost. Here are the items : — 

Ticket to Montreal, Quebec, and return, $32.00 

Hotel bill at Montreal, for four days, . . 8.00 

" " Quebec, for three days, . . 4.50 

Incidental expenses, including carriage 

hire, meals, and berths on cars, and 

boats, &c., &c., discount, &c., .... 15.00 



Making our total expenses for a trip of 

ten days, in Canada, $49-5<^ 

For about the same expense can one spend 



go OUR VACATIONS. 

another vacation in the new Dominion, turning 
westward, instead of eastward, from Montreal. 
Though this route has not yet become so pop- 
ular with pleasure-seekers as the one just de- 
scribed, perhaps it possesses even greater attrac- 
tions for many, since it shows more of the 
wonderful river scenery of Canada, and the 
newer and more enterprising sections of the 
Dominion. 

This excursion, moreover, will introduce us to 
the Canadian capital, and to the greatest lumber 
region of the world, as well as to the exciting 
sport of running the rapids of the St. Lawrence, 
on our way back to Montreal. 

Early in the morning, if we decide in favor of 
the Ottawa trip, we shall take the cars at the 
Grand Trunk station, on Bonaventure Street, 
Montreal ; and seven miles from the city, the cars 
will transfer their freight to the trim little 
steamer, which is here waiting to take us half 
v^ay to Ottawa. Soon we shall be ploughing 
our way through the turbid waters of the Ottawa, 
which look about the color of muddv cider. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 91 

If we were not in a country of great rivers, the 
Ottawa itself would be a standing marvel, for 
there are very few rivers in the world that out- 
rank it in size. 

Noted for its great volume and the impetuos- 
ity of its course, it sweeps down for hundreds 
and hundreds of miles from its undiscovered 
source in the far north. For more than a thou- 
sand miles from its union with the St. Lawrence 
have explorers traced its course, and yet its head 
waters have never been reached, and it is not 
certainly known whether the Indian tradition 
that it rises in a great lake, as large as Lake 
Huron, is true or false. 

No wonder that in the Indian tongue this 
mighty stream is called the Kitchesippi, or great 
river. 

Soon after taking the steamer, we reach the old 
French town of St. Anne's, with its big church 
and little houses ; and, to avoid a rapid, we here 
have to pass through a lock, during which rather 
slow operation, we have a good chance to see 
this old-fashioned village, and a large proportion 



92 OUR VACATIONS. 

of its inhabitants, who tnake an unfailing pil- 
grimage to the wharf to see the great event of 
the day — the arrival of the boat. 

Here at St. Anne's it is said that the poet 
Moore wrote his immortal Canadian Boat Song, 
the chorus of which — 

*' Row, brothers, row; the stream runs fast; 
The rapids are near and the daylight's past" — 

is so familiar to all. Surely the lovely scene of 
river and rapids, green islands and fields, and 
gently-sloping hills, which the poet looked out 
itpon from St. Anne's, was enough to inspire a 
more prosaic soul than Tom Moore's. 

One of the most noticeable features of our ride 
up the Ottawa is the immense amount of lum- 
ber floating down the river, both in rafts of 
rough logs and barges piled with boards. Per- 
h'aps a short account of this greatest industry of 
Northern Canada will not be uninteresting. 

The first step of the lumberman is to secure 
of the government, which owns most of the 
timber-land of Canada, a berth, or limit of wood- 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM, 93 

land, on the Upper Ottawa, or on one of its tribu- 
taries. 

These limits are sold by auction for a merely 
nominal price, something like a dollar or a dol- 
lar and a half per square mile. 

A limit, which usually comprises about a hun- 
dred square miles, having been secured, Indian 
scouts are sent out to find and mark the position 
of the best pine grove in the tract. 

When the cold weather actually sets in, an 
army of five or six hundred lumbermen is de- 
spatched to this limit, and then from October to 
April the woods are merry enough with th« 
cheery ring of the axe, and the shout of the 
many teamsters. 

On first reaching the limit, a rough shanty of 
logs is built, with a double row of berths around 
the sides, a raised fireplace in the centre, and an 
opening in the roof which serves as a chimney. 
And this rough hover gives a name to everything 
connected with lumbering. For instance, " shan- 
tying," in common parlance, means lumbering ; 
" going up to shanty " is going to the lumber 



• 



94 OUR VACATIONS. 

camp. Lumbermen, in this "shanty dialect," 
are " shanty men," and the horses they take with 
them are " shanty horses."' 

The domestic economy of the shanty is con- 
ducted on very simple, and, withal, strictly tem- 
perance principles. 

The staple articles of diet are fat salt pork 
and doughnuts, while tea is the universal bever- 
age. But such tea ! — it does not even bear a 
family resemblance to the delicious drink of a 
well-ordered supper table. Such tea would be 
no more appreciated by the rough palate of a 
*' shanty man," than would a Parker House din- 
ner by a Mississippi alligator. 

Would you know the recipe for shanty tea.? 

In a pot of cold water place two heaping 
handfuls of tea, hang it on the crane over the fire, 
and let it boil — not simmer, but actually boil — 
for half an hour ; then sweeten with molasses, 
and you have the favorite drink of the Canadian 
lumbermen. 

Some of the supplies which are required by a 
gang of six hundred men throughout the winter 
are as follows : — 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 95 

825 barrels of pork, 
900 barrels of flour, 
7,500 pounds of tea, 
3,650 gallons of sirup, 
6,000 pounds of tobacco, 
375 dogs, 

225 sleds, &c., &c., 
the whole, costing over fifty thousand dollars, at 
a low estimate. 

When spring comes, the logs are hauled to the 
nearest stream, and then floated down, through 
various tributaries, perhaps, until at length they 
reach the broad Ottawa. 

When the rafts reach the Chaudiere, near Ot- 
tawa City, they are caught by a boom ; and in 
the immense steam saw-mills which here line the 
river, they are speedily converted into the build- 
ing-material of the world. 

Now that we know something of the history 
of the rafts and lumber scows which dot the 
river on every side, let us pay attention to the 
scenery through which we are passing. Noth- 
ing very striking or grand shall we see ; but still 



96 OUR VACATIONS. 

the quiet beauty of the scene, which is ever un- 
folding to us, will make this day, spent on the 
forward deck of the Ottawa steamer, a red-letter 
day in our Canadian journey. 

On the right are the green fields and log huts 
of the Province of Quebec, and on the left the 
log huts and green fields of the Province of On- 
tario, with little of the wonderful difference 
in the opposite banks observable which many 
travellers imagine they see in favor of Protes- 
tant Ontario, and to the disadvantage of Catholic 
QLiebec. 

A single glance at either shore, however, 
would convince us that we were not passing 
through any part of Yankee land, such an 
air of shiftlessness and general debility is every- 
where noticeable. 

We have been told, too, that the superstitious 
ignorance of dwellers in these backwood settle- 
ments is perfectly marvellous, for this boasted 
nineteenth century of enlightenment. Not long 
ago an approaching comet and the predictions 
of an ignorant priest threw most of the inhabit- 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM, 97 

ants of a large Canadian village into consterna- 
tion, and fully impressed the whole community 
with the belief that the day of judgment was 
appointed for exactly five minutes past ten of a 
bright May morning. 

It was less than two years ago that in another 
priest-ridden village of the Province of Quebec, 
a nun, of a prophetic turn of mind, announced 
that there would soon be three days of total 
darkness, when not only the sun and moon 
would be darkened, and the stars would refuse 
to give their light, but even lamps and fires 
could not be prevailed upon to burn , and only 
wax candles which had been blessed by the 
priest would give light. 

In consequence of this startling prophecy the 
merchants of the place drove a flourishing trade 
in wax candles, the priests filled their pockets 
with consecration money, and all waited in 
dread expectancy for the dark days. The ap- 
pointed days came ; but the sun and moon, 
lamps and fires, all shone as brightly as ever. 
The reputation of the prophetic nun was fast 
7 



98 OUR VACATIONS. 

sinking below par, when, by a fortunate chance, 
a tremendous thunder shower arose one night. 

Forthwith all good Catholics arose and lighted 
their consecrated tapers ; and — inirabile dictu 
— in the course of an hour or two the storm abat- 
ed, and soon entirely ceased. 

Moreover, one devout sister, more zealous than 
the rest, besides lighting her candle, sprinkled 
her furniture and carpets with a liberal supply 
of what she supposed was holy water ; but im- 
agine her horror, and the state of her furniture, 
when she found the next morning, that she had 
made a mistake, and in her trepidation of the 
previous night, had used the bottle of hair oil 
instead of the flask of holy water. 

Nevertheless, the prophetic character of the 
holy nun was established beyond a doubt, though 
her prediction had not been quite carried out in 
all its details ; and all pious Catholics blessed 
their stars, and crossed themselves an extra time, 
when they thought of the great deliverance 
which their holy candles had wrought out for 
them. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 99 

But we were steaming up the Ottawa River — ■ 
were we not? About half way between Mont- 
real and Ottawa the Long Sault Rapids will ob- 
struct our further progress by steamer, and we 
shall be obliged to take to the rails for a few 
miles. Grenville and Carillon are the termini, 
and only two stations of the road, and the single 
car which this railroad boasts might, to all ap- 
pearances, have served George Stevenson on his 
first trial trip. An ancient conductor, in a bat- 
tered beaver hat, of at least seventy summers, 
(these figures, by the way, will apply, with great 
truth, either to the conductor or his hat), punches 
our tickets ; a venerable brakeman turns the 
crank, while the engine puffs and wheezes as 
though it, too, were afflicted with old age and de- 
crepitude. But it bears us safely around the rap- 
ids, and according to the principle of the old prov- 
erb, we should not speak ill of such a train. It is 
possible, too, that in its onward march improve- 
ment has by this time reached even the Gren- 
ville and Carillon Railroad. In justice it should 
be said that, in spite of their unprofessional ap- 



lOO OUR VACATIONS. 



pearance, the officials of this little road afford a 
most pleasing contrast, in point of politeness and 
kindness, to many of the conductors and brake- 
men of larger roads that might be mentioned. 

At Carillon another steamer is in waiting, new, 
and finely furnished, and comparatively large ; 
in short, worthy of her name, in every particu- 
lar, is the " Peerless." 

By more green fields and log huts we steam, 
with the sombre pine forests stretching away 
for hundreds of miles in the distance, until 
at length, just twelve hours after leaving the 
wharf at Montreal, we glide under the lee of 
the high, rocky bluff on which the Canadian 
capital is built. 

As usual, the first inquiry upon I'eaching a 
new city will be for a hotel. As usual too, in 
Canadian cities the highest priced, which in 
Ottawa happens to be the Russell House, is far 
from first-class, and but little superior to the 
more moderate houses. At either the Albion 
or the Daniels the charges are not more than 
two dollars per dayycr Americans. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. loi 

One of the strangest freaks of modern legis- 
lators, in the opinion of many, was the establish- 
ment of the cajDital of British America at " half- 
barbarous Ottawa," as a recent writer calls this 
bright little city. 

But when we have taken a stroll over the city, 
it will not seem such a very bad place for a 
capital, after all ; and we shall be apt to think as 
favorably of the judgment of those who selected 
this site as of the man who has presumed to call 
this pretty city " half-barbarous Ottawa." Hand- 
some blocks of brick and brown stone line the 
principals streets, and tasteful private residences 
give anything but an uncivilized aspect to the 
outskirts of the city. 

Northern belles, with sparkling eyes and rosy 
cheeks, promenade the streets, in company with 
the nobbiest of young men who sport Malacca 
canes and blonde side-whiskers in the most 
approved Canuck style ; while many govern- 
ment officials are galloping to and from the 
Parliament buildings, with a condescending air 
and rigidity of back-bone that no one but an 



I02 OUR VACATIONS. 

Englishman who is conscious of cutting a swell 
can assume. 

Even we shall probably be obliged to confess 
to a feeling a little too near admiration to be in 
strict accordance with our republican principles 
and training, when we are informed by the awe- 
stricken voice of a native, as we very likely shall 
be, that his lordship, the governor general, is 
passing on horseback. 

A little story will illustrate the curious gyra- 
tions which the wheel of fortune sometimes 
makes, and at the same time explain why this 
main street of Ottawa, up and down which we 
have been pacing, is called Sparks Street. It 
has been expanded into a very pretty tale in an 
old number of one of our popular magazines, 
but as it is hardly supposable that everybody has 
complete files of Harper, we will give here an 
outline of the story. 

Some fourscore years ago an adventurous and 
sharp-sighted Yankee, named Wright, wandered 
up into this part of the world, which was then 
an untrodden wilderness for near a hundred miles 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 103 

on every side. When this keen, speculative son 
of the Puritans saw the rich lands just across the 
river from where Ottawa now stands, he saw at 
the same time (in his mind's eye) a thriving vil- 
lage on this very spot, of which a happy old man 
by the name of Wright was the founder as well 
as Grand Mogul. In short, here, on the banks 
of the river, he decided to raise his Ebenezer, as 
the hymn has it, or, in plain Canuck, to build a 
shanty. And this shanty, with numerous other 
shanties which soon grouped themselves about it, 
he called Hull, after the dull little sea-coast 
village, so familiar to Bostonians, from which he 
had emigrated. 

Now, Mr. Wright waxed great and increased 
in goods, as he deserved to do, and had many 
lusty Irishmen to work for him. Among others 
was one who bore the suggestive patronymic 
Sparks. Nevertheless, Mr. Sparks's character 
was in no wise suggested by his name, whether 
that name brings to mind the love-lorn Bene- 
dict, or merely gives a general impression of 
brightness and instability. On the other hand, Mr. 



I04 



OUR VACATIONS. 



Sparks was a model of steadiness and good 
sense, knowing when he had made a good 
bargain, and very sure that he was on the losing 
side, when, at the end of the year, Mr. Wright 
told him that he couldn't pay him for his year's 
work in money, but that he must take his pay 
out in land across the river. 

No, there was no help for it; money was 
tighter in Hull or Wrightsville than it is on Wall 
Street in a panic, and Mr. Wright was obliged to 
suspend specie payment entirely, and friend Sparks 
had his choice of taking any number of acres 
across the river for his pay, or nothing at all. At 
first he did flare up, to be sure, — as what spark 
would not? — when blown upon by such a gale 
of ill-luck, and he called St. Patrick to witness 
that those acres across the river were not worth 
a picayune, or a continental, or whatever hap- 
pened to be the popular expression for worthless- 
ness in the year i8— ; and moreover he went on 
to remark that it was a crying sin to pay a man 
in such valueless commodity as Canadian wilder- 
ness, and that the more a man had of it, the 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 105 

worse off he was, etc. But he was a good, sen- 
sible man at bottom, and concluded, as Mr. 
Wright showed no signs of " resuming," to take 
a pair of oxen for his season's work, with about 
two hundred acres across the river, thrown in as 
a clincher. The years rolled on, and fortune's 
whirligig revolved as well ; Wrightstown, how- 
ever, followed the example of neither time nor 
fortune, but came to a complete stand-still. On 
the other hand, the rocky pastures on the other 
side of the river began to show signs of life ; 
first one shanty went up, then another ; then 
some soldiers' barracks were reared, and a 
frame house soon followed them. By and by 
it began to be whispered that the government 
had decided to establish there an important 
military post, and that a great canal was to be 
dug right through Sparks's worthless wilder- 
ness. After all, Sparks began to think " that 
wasn't such a bad year's work," and, as the 
money flowed in upon him faster and faster 
every year, he became more and more assured 
of the truth of this conviction. 



io6 OUR VACATIONS. 

But you know, or can guess, the rest — how 
Ottawa grew, and how friend Sparks grew with 
it ; how he developed from Sparks the day- 
laborer into the Hon. Mr. Sparks the million- 
aire ; and you can doubtless imagine a rotund, 
hearty old man pacing up and down the 
handsome, busy street to which he had given 
his name, and recalling that year, long ago, 
when he worked for Mr. Wright and received 
a pair of oxen and — well, a little matter of 
land " across the river.'* 

And how about Mr. Wright and his village? 

Very little indeed, for there is Hull to this 
day about as dead and dull as its namesake 
of Massachusetts Bay. 

But as to the modern city — Ottawa. It 
might be emphatically called the Lumber City 
of America. Indeed, the lumber trade is the 
great and only distinguishing business of this 
whole region. 

From the high bluff on which the city is 
built, you look down upon hundreds of acres 
piled fifteen and twent}^ feet high with sawn 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 107 

lumber, while the immense mills which here line 
the river, busy night and day, are ever humming 
their song of industry and wealth. 

It is said that, almost without exception, these 
great establishments are owned by " American" 
capital and managed by Yankee skill. 

When we visit the lower part of the city to 
inspect the mills and lumber-yards, we shall 
at the same time admire the wonderful falls of 
the Chaudiere. 

Very few rivals and scarce any superiors have 
these falls in the country. 

Though the descent is not great, the vast 
volume of roaring, boiling water which tumbles 
over the rough ledge makes the Chaudiere no 
ordinary waterfall. 

In the upper part of the city is situated the 
great attraction of Ottawa — the Parliament 
buildings. 

These are really very fine, " the most magnifi- 
cent on the face of the earth," any Canadian 
within a radius of forty miles will tell you ; 
and though we may be disposed to take his 



loS OUR VACATIONS. 

statement cum gi'aiio salis^ we can readily ex- 
cuse his pride in his capitol. 

The buildings enclose three sides of a quad- 
rangle, and are built principally of a rough 
brown stone found in that region, and deeply 
trimmed with Ohio sandstone. 

The architecture is Gothic modified to suit the 
cold Canadian climate, and the buildings have 
all a wonderful air of taste and symmetry about 
them, whether viewed near at hand or at a dis- 
tance ; for the clear-cut outlines of the many 
turrets and the glittering of the numberless gilded 
spires can be seen miles away, in that pure at- 
mosphere. 

The inside, too, well corresponds with the fair 
exterior, and anything finer than the halls and cor- 
ridors, legislative apartments, and general offices 
of the Canadian capitol is seldom to be seen. 
The main central building contains the chambers 
of the Senate and House of Commons. They 
are tastefully and richly upholstered and fur- 
nished ; the corridors are hung with paintings of 
the past governor-generals and distinguished men 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 109 

of the provinces ; while the sandstone pillars 
which support the building are richly sculptured 
With representations of the animal and vegetable 
productions of the Dominion. 

Of the buildings on the sides of the quadran- 
gle, one is taken up with the general offices of 
government, while the other is devoted in part 
to the Patent Office, where we can pass two or 
three very pleasant hours among the various 
children of the inventors' brain ; some valuable, 
others worthless, some accepted and patented, 
others rejected. How much care, and toil, and 
patience, how many trembling hopes and satisfied 
desires, and ruined plans for wealth and honor, 
are hidden away in the cases and on the tables 
of a Patent Office ! 

Now, what else is there to see? The guide- 
book, hotel-keeper, and " we " your self-appoint- 
ed mentor, all answer, " Nothing." On our 
homeward journey, let us, witli your permission, 
take the most delightful and exciting steamboat 
ride which the country affords — the trip down 
the river, through the rapids of the St. Law- 



no OUR VACATIONS. 

rence ; that is, if we can pierce the Boeotian 
intellects of the Ottawa Railway officials, suffi- 
ciently to find when the train for Prescott leav-ea. 

The fare to Prescott, the southern terminus of 
the St. Lawrence and Ottawa Railroad, is two 
dollars, and the fifty-four miles of this road run 
through one of the most desolate, barren, stumpy, 
swampy, in short (for an ordinary stock of adjec- 
tives is exhausted in attempting to describe it), 
utterly forsaken regions on the face of the globe. 
The scenery is a continuous succession of 
swampy lowlands and burnt forests, where the 
dead trees rear their bare, gaunt limbs to heaven 
in a ghostly, dreary way. The fact is, the coun- 
try between Prescott and Ottawa, in the matter 
of dead forest trunks, might easily " stump " the 
world. 

We shall not have a great while to wait at 
Prescott, if the steamer is on time ; and not long 
after swinging clear of the wharf, we reach the 
Long Sault Rapids of the St. Lawrence, which 
continue for nine miles. 

But we mustn't be disappointed because this 



HOIV TO ENJOY THEM. m 

little ripple and eddy which we see is the Long 
Sault of which we have heard and dreamed so 
much. We shall come to the rapids in good 
earnest pretty soon. 

There, do you see that seething, boiling, rush- 
ing, white-capped mass of angry waves, just 
ahead of us? That begins to meet your antici- 
pations — does it not.-* 

Now we are in the midst of the turbulent 
waters. How the steamer rocks and careens ! 
Now down, down, down in a watery valley, 
now up on a billowy hill. How she shakes, and 
shivers, and groans, as though hit by a cannon 
ball, when she broaches to ever so little, and a 
billow taps her broadside ever so gently ! 

Don't let her broach to much more, pilot, or 
one of these sledge-hammer waves will shiver 
her to splinters in a twinkling. Though, in fact, 
accidents rarely occur, this shooting the rapids 
is not without real excitement and danger. 

This we can read in the captain's anxious face 
as he nervously paces the upper deck just under 
the wheel-house. Then we must have four ex- 



112 OUR VACATIONS. 

perienced pilots at the wheel, and four more at 
the tiller ; eight pairs of sharp eyes on the foam- 
ing rapids, and the narrow channel through 
them ; eight pairs of muscular arms directing 
the rudders. These show the skill and force it 
requires to run the St. Lawrence Rapids. And 
here we are o^lidino: out into still water. Were 
you afraid? O, no! You scorn the imputation. 
But then you are rather glad the Long Sault is 
safely passed. 

The scenery on either bank is ver}^ pleasing ; 
the shores are hard and well defined, not 
swampy and reedy, as the banks of the Ottawa ; 
the settlements, too, on both sides of us, look 
more prosperous than those farther north. 

Cornwall is a busy, thriving place, on the 
Canadian shore ; and just below lies the old In- 
dian village of St. Regis, with its old-fashioned 
church and its historic bell. 

Many a romantic tale could the tongue of this 
old bell ring out if it were so disposed. In the 
first place, it was made in France, and bought 
by the St. Regis Indians, who were converts to 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 



Christianity, for their new church. While on its 
way to its new home, on the banks of the St. 
Lawrence, it was captured by an American pri- 
vateer, and taken to Salem. 

Soon after, it was bought and hung in the old 
Orthodox Church of Deerfield. What a different 
call you rung out then, old bell, when you sum- 
moned the good deacons and sturdy Puritans of 
Deerfield to Sabbath worship, from what was 
expected of you when you were cast in sunny 
France ! 

But this bell was never destined for an Ortho- 
dox meeting-house ; for soon the Indians, hearing 
of its Protestant occupation, formed an expedi- 
tion for its recovery, which resulted in the 
horrible Deerfield butchery, and the recapture of 
the bell, which they bore back in triumph to St. 
Regis. 

Eleven more rapids (great and small) we shall 
run before reaching Montreal. 

But at length, near evening, we steam up to 
the busy quays of the Mount Royal city. Our 
8 



114 ^^^ VACATIONS. 

circle of Canadian travel is completed, and our 
forty-five dollars are nearly gone, as well. 

Which do you prefer, gentlemen, Montreal 
and Q^iebec, or Montreal, Ottawa, and the St. 
Lawrence Rapids? 

" You pays your money, and you takes your 
choice." 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 115 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE TENT ON THE BEACH. 

Now, reader^ since j^ou have climbed the 
rocky steeps of the White Hills with us, and 
wandered through the cities and up and down 
the rivers of the New Dominion in our com- 
pany, we begin to feel quite familiar with you ; 
and so we make bold to say, " Come to the 
sea-shore, and spend a week in our tent on the 
beach." 

We do not expect to tell anything that is new 
about tent life to you, whose canvas has often 
whitened Cape Cod's sands or Cape Ann's 
rocks ; but this chapter is for the thousands 
who yearly swelter through the dog days be- 
tween the brick walls of a city, or in some 
blistering inland village, utterly unconscious that 



11 6 OUR VACATIONS. 

the cool breezes of the sea and the delights 
of camp life may be enjoyed for the same five- 
dollar bill which perchance only half purchases 
for them the privilege of existing at home, 
where the mercury ranges among the nineties. 

Even for those who think they have not brawn 
enough to make mountaineers, or a sufficient 
supply of the " needful " to take the journey 
to Canada, this method of spending the vaca- 
tion is perfectly feasible, and they will find it 
fully as enjoyable as either of the others. 

Then, ho for the sea-shore ! 

Our outfit for the beach will be very similar 
to the one we had in the mountains, barring 
of course our horse and wagon. 

The chief modifications are, that we shall not 
need to take so large a supply of ham and hard 
tack, since, if we are skilful anglers, our hooks 
will furnish us plenty of fresh fish, and we can 
doubtless rely on some passing baker's cart, or 
upon the neighboring country store, to supply us 
with the staff of life. 

In other respects, as regards our tent, hard- 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. ny 

ware and tinware, stove, and minor provisions, we 
cannot do better, perhaps, than to follow our old 
plan in the mountain campaign. 

Now, where shall we go? is the next question. 

Not that there is any lack of camping-grounds ; 
on the other hand, the difficulty lies in choosing 
between the many equally attractive spots with 
which our New England coast abounds. 

Thus Nantasket, Cohasset, and Chelsea offer 
their quiet attractions to the lovers of hard, 
sandy beaches and surf-bathing. Then Nahant, 
with its long neck of sand, its cliffs and sterile, 
rocky promontories, presents varied delights to 
the pleasure-seeker. 

If we desire to get farther out of the busy 
harbor, and more into the arms of old Ocean 
himself, we can find few pleasanter places 
to spread our canvas than the region about 
Gloucester ; and- the whole coast of Maine af- 
fords excellent tenting-grounds if our place 
of residence or our inclinations lead us to the 
Pine Tree State. 

The great drawback to the places first men- 



OUR VACATIONS, 



tioned is, that they are fast becoming too com- 
mon resorts for pleasure-seekers, so that nature 
is almost lost in the crowd of fashionables who 
yearly throng the sands of Nantasket and the 
headlands of Nahant, and, what with gardens, 
and fountains, and elegant residences, the places 
begin to resemble artificial parks. On the 
whole, then, let us vote for some spot in the 
neighborhood of Gloucester as combining the 
three requisites of camp life — good fishing, 
good bathing, and good scener}^ 

But, of course, wherever our party votes to go, 
we will loyally follow, w^iether it is to Cape Cod 
or Cape Ann, Massachusetts Bay or Passama- 
quoddy. We simply mention Gloucester as a 
definite place for the benefit of the anxious and 
aimless who want a summer vacation, and yet 
know not where to pitch their tent. 

Now, if we have by this time reached our 
camping-ground, up goes our tent in a trice, 
with the opening to the sea, that we may get the 
benefit of the afternoon breeze and the glorious 
view of old Ocean. 



HOIV TO ENJOY THEM. 119 

We should, if possible, too, choose an airy 
spot, at some distance from a grove of trees, for 
there we may hope to be free from that pest of 
camp life, the mosquito. 

While we are making everything tight and 
tidy inside and out, a committee of two should 
be detailed to dig a trench, eight or ten inches 
deep, around the tent, to prevent our being 
drowned out, should a rainy day or a sharp 
thunder-shower visit us. 

A sleeping-place for the night is now pro- 
vided, and a certain aching void beneath our 
belts asserts its right to be considered next ; so 
we all seize our poles and rush for the rocks, 
with a realizing sense of working for our sup- 
pers that we have never before experienced. 

Fishing-poles and lines we can doubtless se- 
cure from any one of the many little public 
houses along the shore at a moderate rental, and 
at the same place we can get a basket of clams, 
which will serve us for bait this afternoon. 

When we have learned the way of cunners, 
which in the sinful trick of taking the bait with- 



I20 OUR VACATIONS. 

out getting caught are past finding out, we shall 
discard clams for bait, and use sea worms, which 
we can find in great quantities by digging in the 
sand at lov/ tide. 

Now put a small piece of bait on your hook 
(if you use half a clam, as you will be sure to do 
if a greenhorn at cunner-fishing, you will never 
catch a supper), and drop in just there, where 
the water looks deep and dark, and now — 
" the one who catches the first fish is the best 
fellow." 

Neither Izaak Walton nor any of his disciples 
ever really explained the delight there is in the 
'' gentle craft '* to the genuine angler, who is a 
fisherman by nature. 

It is not what he catches, or what he actually 
knows that he will catch, that makes him sit so 
patiently all day long on the hard side of the 
rock, but it is the vast possibilities which are 
before him. 

He never yet caught a whale, to be sure ; but 
who knows that the very next bite may not be 
from some monster of the deep ! 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 121 

Thus, as we now sit, waiting for our supper to 
bite before we bite our supper, we may be quite 
certain, theoretically, that nothing but cunners 
and sculpins will visit our hooks, with an occa- 
sional rock cod or tautog perhaps ; but there is 
the great ocean before us, looking so deep and 
mysterious, and filled with all manner of swim- 
ming things ; and is it not possible that some 
of the more uncommon will conclude to dine 
oft' the cold clam which hangs from our hooks ? 

In short, fishing is a harmless lottery to the man 
with a large bump of hope and imagination, and 
though he often draws blanks or insignificant 
prizes, yet the opera-houses and railroad shares 
are still in the sea, and perhaps the very next 
cast of his line will bring one of them up. 

Nipper-fishing is no mean sport, however 
much it may be decried by professionals, for, 
though nippers are very abundant along all our 
New England coast, it requires little less skill to 
catch them than it does their nobler speckled 
relatives of the mountain streams ; and the old 
salt by our side, who supplies the city market, 



132 OUR VACATIONS. 

and who knows just how to bait and when and 
how to jerk up the fish, will catch ten nippers to 
our one. 

In the course of an hour, however, we shall 
probably have caught enough little fish for a 
moderate meal ; and the next question which pre- 
sents itself will be how to prepare them for the 
frying-pan. 

Here is the modus operandi of skinning a 
nipper, and a most important piece of informa- 
tion we shall find it during our stay at the 
beach. 

Hold the fish firmly in your left hand, and 
with a sharp knife cut off" the back fin from the 
tail to the head, then do the same with the ventral 
fins. Cut the skin around the head, pull it off 
with your thumb and finger, break off the head 
and — there you have it, as nice and white a 
morsel of fish as ever delighted the soul of an 
epicure. Soon, when practice has made us 
more perfect, we can skin two perch a minute 
with perfect ease. 

Now roll the nippers in corn meal, and lay 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 123 

them in the spider, in which a piece of salt 
pork is ah'eady sizzling ; watch them carefully 
to see that they do not burn, and in fifteen min- 
utes our dish of cunners, delicate, crisp, and 
brown, is ready to go with our hard tack and 
coffee. 

We shall doubtless find that there is some 
natural cook in our party (for the necessity of 
camp life is the mother of culinary invention), 
who will often regale us with johnnie-cake and 
corn-dodgers, and those glorious flapjacks which 
cap the climax of these out-door meals of ours. 

But the crowning glory of our camp life is 
the evening, when the fried cunners have been 
disposed of, the dishes washed up, and we ar- 
range ourselves for a social talk before the blaz- 
ing fire of drift-w^ood. 

Here we are, all lying in a row just within 
the tent door, with our feet toasting at the 
crackling fire outside. 

Here are Sam, and Tom, and Dick, and 
Jack, and Hiram, whom you met at the moun- 
tains ; and these names may stand for doctors 



124 



OUR VACATIONS. 



of divinity, if you choose, for we have no 
" Reverends," nor " Honorables," nor even 
"Misters" out here during these two weeks. 

It is getting quite dusk outside, and we can 
almost see gray night coming down in great 
sheets over the earth. 

Lights of all sizes begin to twinkle about us, 
from the little star of the twelfth magnitude 
which glimmers in the cottage of the fisher- 
man, to the bright constellation that shines 
from the light-house tower. Away in the dis- 
tance gleams a bright revolving light, which 
every sixty seconds emerges out of darkness, 
shines full in our faces for an instant with its 
Polyphemus eye, then slowly recedes and dis- 
appears into darkness again for another minute. 

Hoarsely and savagely the waves beat against 
the rocks, albeit they are singing a gentle lul- 
laby compared with the noise they would make 
should a storm arise. The tide is coming in 
now, and a few rods from the shore, where, 
an hour ago, a ledge of rocks rose high out of 
the water, only the long backbone of the ledge 



HOPF TO ENJOY THEM. 125 

appears, and it takes but little imagination to 
call it some terrible sea-serpent, and ourselves 
and companions trembling Laocoons awaiting 
his approach. You will notice that the fresh 
sea breeze has a remarkable vivifying effect 
upon one's memories of Virgil. 

" Pile on the drift-wood. Jack, and let us have 
a rousing old fire to inspire the stories. Why, 
each of these sticks and branches in our wood- 
pile has a tale, if we could only unfold it. 
Who knows from what far-away land that piece 
of board drifted.? From Brazil, perhaps, or from 
Norway or Australia. That withered palm- 
branch and piece of bamboo have had quite a 
journey surely." 

If you could see into the darkness of the tent, 
you would notice stretched out with the rest of 
us one or two brown and brawny toilers of 
the sea, who, attracted by our camp fire, have 
come up " to hear the new^s," or to ask " the 
good w^ord." 

We are glad to see them, for capital Mun- 
chausens are these fishermen, regular Schehere- 



126 OUR VACATIONS. 

zades, whose stock of wonderful tales would 
save their lives more than a thousand and one 
nights with any story-loving sultan of the Indies. 

A few judicious questions asked in a non- 
chalant way will set these sunburnt visitors of 
ours to reeling off 3'arns which quite eclipse 
the stories of Captain Marryat himself. Indeed, 
on any piscatorial point, whether the discourse 
touches upon the number of cunners he can 
skin in a minute, or upon the size of the whale 
he saw last year, our fisherman is ready with 
facts and figures astounding enough to make 
any veracious landsman shudder ; and very em- 
phatically do we pronounce all his yarns ^j^- 
stories. 

Occasionally, too, one of us ventures a story, 
not, to be sure, in any spirit of rivalry with the 
marine Munchausen, but just by way of variety. 
Sometimes a conundrum goes around the circle, 
and is then, of course, given up ; and so the 
time passes, imtil, before we know it, the evening 
is gone ; the deep, regular breathing of one after 
another of the party announces his departure for 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 127 

dream-land, and the rest declare that it is time 
to turn in for the night. 

So we fasten the tent flap, dowse the glim by 
turning the candle end for end in the black bottle 
which serves as a candlestick, and then coil our- 
selves cosily in our blankets. A verbatim report 
of what is said and done during one of these glori- 
ous evenings in camp, however enjoyably the time 
is in reality spent, would be very flat and common- 
place reading. The sailor's exploits would be 
pronounced very poor extravaganza, the stories 
tame, and the conundrums stupid ; and so they 
would sound ; for, in order to appreciate them, 
you must listen to them with the solemn roll of 
the sea in your ears, and with the ruddy fire-light 
dancing and flickering over a circle of brown 
figures in blue shirts. You should be lying in a 
tent, too, with a dim candle in the back part of it 
barely giving light enough to make the dark 
corners weird and ghostly, peopling them with 
phantoms, and transforming the stove, and the 
provision basket hung from the ridge-pole, into 
gnomes and afrits, and the wraiths of departed 



128 OUR VACATIONS. 

suppers which they have cooked or held. You 
may be sure that Sam, and Tom, and Dick, and 
their stories, are entirely different affairs under 
such circumstances from what they are when 
seen by the aid of prosaic printer's ink alone. 

The next morning we must be up, bright and 
early, to catch our breakfast, for the nippers are 
particularly eager to take our hooks at this time 
of day, especially if the tide happens to be pretty 
well in at the same time. 

In their dory, a few rods from the rocks, are 
our friends, who visited us the preceding evening, 
busily engaged in examining their lobster-traps. 

From some of the traps they pull out eight or 
ten of the green, ungainly creatures, while some 
yield only two or three, and others none at all. 
Then, having emptied their traps, they rebait 
them with sculpins or other fish offal, and sink 
them again, to beguile more of their many-legged 
victims. 

But what does that hullabaloo from the point 
of rocks where Tom is fishing, mean? 

We all run to the spot, ready for any excite- 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 129 

ment, and find that Tom's shouts of triumph 
arise from his capture of a fine rock-cod, whose 
blood-red scales glisten in the sun-light as he 
holds it up to our view. A lucky catch, Tom ; 
for there is a good meal in him alone, and no 
one need sneeze at a fresh rock-cod for break- 
fast. 

The rock-cod (so called because generally 
caught near rocky shores) resembles the ordi- 
nary cod in shape, but is distinguished by his 
brighter colors, being the most brilliant of 
all the fish we shall capture. 

The rock-cod, too, is generally smaller than 
the deep-water variety, and its flesh is considered 
more delicate. 

Of the fish we catch from the rocks, the sea- 
perch (called by the fishermen, indifferently, 
*' cunners," or " nippers") are by far the most 
numerous. Indeed, you can hardly drop a line 
from the rocks at any point along the coast from 
Labrador to the Gulf without getting a bite from 
these gamy little fish. 

They vary in size from three inches to a foot. 
9 



130 



OUR VACATIONS. 



in length, though they rarely weigh over a 
pound, and they vary in color as well. For the 
most-part they are dark above and light below, 
with wide bands of bright color. 

Sometimes, however, we haul up a fellow who 
is nearly black throughout ; and again a bleached 
specimen, of a decidedly light orange color, 
comes to the surface. Whether, in the land of 
the cunners, the blondes or brunettes are consid- 
ered more beautiful, we have never discovered. 
Perhaps tastes differ there as well as in other 
circles. 

Like their relatives, the perch of fresh-water 
streams, they bite boldly, and are very voracious, 
so that when our clams are exhausted we can 
use for bait pieces of their dead brethren, which 
we have before caught. 

Wood, in his Natural History, relates an anec- 
dote of a gentleman who hooked a perch, but 
unfortunately tore out the eye of the poor crea- 
ture without catching it. He adjusted the eye 
on the hook, and replaced it in the water, where 
it had hardly been a minute before the float 



HOIV TO ENJOY THEM. 131 

was violently drawn under the surface. The 
angler, of course, struck, and found he had cap- 
tured a fine perch. This, when landed, was dis- 
covered to be the same one which had just been 
mutilated, and which had actually lost its life by 
devouring its own eye. 

Izaak Walton quaintly observes, in regard to 
the perch (though he speaks of the fresh-water 
variety), " If there be twenty or forty in a hole, 
they may be all caught at one standing, one 
after another ; they being, like the wicked of the 
world, not afraid, though their friends and com- 
panions perish in their sight." 

When the water is clear, and not too deep, it 
is a curious thing to watch a school of cunners 
playing around your hook. 

First a lot of small fry will rush out of the sea- 
weed, and have a regular swimming match with 
each other to see which will first reach your 
bait. 

There — a little fellow grabs it, and runs off 
vigorously, three or four feet from his compan- 
ions, like a greedy chicken. But he is too small 



132 OUR VACATIONS, 

to swallow the hook, and only steals a little piece 
of the bait. 

But look now ! there comes a good half-pound- 
er, slowly gliding out of his dark corner in the 
cool sea-weed. How indifferent and careless he 
looks ! scarcely deigning to glance at the bait, or 
the crowd of youngsters about it, like a young 
dandy to whom the world is as uninteresting as 
a squeezed orange, and who considers it undig- 
nified to express wonder or surprise at anything. 
For a moment he keeps himself poised by the 
gentlest possible motion of his fins, and then 
turns back into his hole, and you think you have 
seen the last of him. 

But wait a moment longer ; he will think bet- 
ter of it. There ! out of the sea-weed something 
rushes like a flash ; the baby cunners scatter in 
every direction ; your hook is seized with a de- 
termined jerk, and a moment later you have him 
on the rock beside you, all his dignit}^ and in- 
difference gone ; now he is nothing but a poor, 
gasping cunner, flapping, in a very ungraceful 
sort of a way, in a basket full of his companions 



HO IV TO ENJOY THEM. 133 

in tnisery — a sad contrast, my poor fellow, to 
your lordly movements, a few moments ago, 
among your small brethren in your own ele- 
ment. 

Perhaps there is a moral here for the young 
swell, whose home is not in the sea-weed, to stick 
to his own element, and not get out of his depth, 
like the unfortunate cunner ; — but this book is 
not a sermon to young swells. 

Sometimes, instead of the quick, decided bite 
of the cunner or nipper, from which way of bit- 
ing the sea-perch derives his latter name, we 
feel our line slowly and heavily drawn under, 
and pulling it up with considerable difficulty, we 
find dangling from the end one of the ugliest 
specimens of the genus ^/^c^'i- that swims the sea. 
With a head bigger than all the rest of him, 
split entirely in two by a most unfashionable 
sized mouth, with great, dull, stony eyes, with 
blotches of livid colors scattered irregularly over 
his body, and with ugly spines, nine on each 
side of his head, like a base ball mustache (to 
repeat an old joke), the sculpin is certainly a 
frightful looking fish. 



134 ^^^ VACATIONS. 

He prowls along the bottom, seeking what 
crustaceae he may devour ; and if our hook hap- 
pens to come in his way, he sucks it in without 
hesitation, since all is grist that comes to his 
mill. 

The sculpin is universally detested by fisher- 
men, since he is worthless for food, difficult to 
handle, and moreover, drives away other fish from 
the neighborhood, So we follow the fisherman's 
usual custom of braining the poor fellow^ before 
we throw him back into the water (which is the 
only method yet discovered to prevent his biting 
again), and then drop in our hooks once more. 
Perhaps this time we feel a savage pull, and our 
line is run out to its full length. We may be 
pretty sure that this bite is from a pollock ; and if 
we succeed in landing him, we shall find we have 
caught a handsome fish, with a graceful, slender 
form, and bright, silvery scales. 

The pollock we catch near the shore generally 
weigh from one to two pounds ; those caught 
in deep Water have sometimes been known 
to weigh thirty pounds. Formerly this fish was 



HOJV TO ENJOY THEM. 1^5 

considered almost worthless for food, as the 
flesh is quite soft ; but we shall find that they 
make a very good fry, if eaten as soon as they 
get through wriggling. 

We shall probably, too, make the acquaint- 
ance of the flounder in the course of our fishing 
from the rocks ; and a curious figure he cuts as 
we see him on the bottom, through the clear 
water, floundering along in his party-colored cos- 
tume, like a state prison convict, brown on one 
side and white on the other, with his goggle eyes 
both on the upper side of his head, peering 
around for his grub. 

The tautog is another fish which we shall 
sometimes catch, and quite a prize we shall con- 
sider him, for fried tautog is justly deemed a 
delicacy. The tautog generally weighs two 
pounds or over, and much resembles an enlarged 
cunner, except that it is darker colored and 
thicker. 

But while we have been discussing the differ- 
ent kinds of fish that visit our hook, others of the 
party have not been idle ; and now, by seven 



136 OUR VACATIONS. 

o'clock, with our cunners and rock-cod, we sure- 
ly have a fair prospect of a breakfast, and Sam 
suggests that we try our hand at a chowder. 

The motion being seconded, and unanimously 
agreed to, we turn our attention to skinning the 
cunners, slicing the potatoes, and getting the fire 
well under way. In our deepest pan we place 
first, a layer of fish, then a stratum of potatoes, 
with some chips of salt pork, and a few sHces of 
onion thrown in if we have them ; cover these 
with hard tack ; then add other strata of fish, pota- 
toes, and hard tack, until the dish is full. Season 
each layer with salt and pepper, and add enough 
water to keep the chowder from burning. 

Let the whole stratified compound sizzle on 
the stove, until the potatoes are soft, and the fish 
peels off the bones ; and then, if aunt Susan 
should rail at us because we have left out the 
milk, and Monsieur Blot should look contemp- 
tuously over the omission of the inevitable bread 
crumbs, we can laugh in their faces, and tell 
them we are very sure that a chowder never 
tasted better. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 137 

Besides chowders and fries, our bill of fare 
may be varied with fresh lobsters, which the 
fishermen will be glad to sell us for five cents 
apiece, with crabs and clams of our own cap- 
turing, and to any greater extent, that our in- 
clinations and the resources of the neighboring 
country store will allow. 

To the hearty lover of nature nothing can be 
more enjoyable than these days spent at our sea- 
shore camp, the whole coast so swarms with 
animal life of the lower grades. Every rock we 
sit on, which is ever touched by the sea waves, 
is rough with little white cockle-shells, whose 
owners we shall find snugly coiled up within, 
if we ever burglariously break into the minute 
abode. 

Every wave that rolls at our feet brings to us 
some form of ocean life. 

Perhaps it is the sun-fish, or jelly-fish, which 
moves through the water with a most graceful 
undulating motion, contracting and expanding 
exactly like an umbrella. Very delicate and 
edible does the jelly-fish appear at first sight, 



138 OUR VACATIONS. 

like the clearest of gelatine ; but let him lie 
on the hot rocks and evaporate in the sunshine 
until the next high tide, and scarcely a trace 
of him can be found, since he leaves no skel- 
eton for future archaeological societies to w^ran- 
gle over. 

Or perhaps the w^ave presents to us a five-rayed 
starfish, or brings along the deserted, bleached, 
and curiously corrugated shell of a sea-wrchin, or 
a sea-cucumber, which so much resembles his 
namesake of the garden that we are inclined to 
throw him at once into our pickle-keg. Per- 
haps it is only a long, slim, slippery sea-weed 
that the tide brings up, with some unfortu- 
nate bivalve which has taken up his abode in 
its roots ; or possibly, as the wave recedes, a 
back-action crab will come out of his crevice 
in the rock to see what is going on in the 
world. Luckless shell-fish these that come with- 
in our range of vision, for the crab robbed of 
his sea-weed covering will soon be broken up 
for bait, and Cancer himself will speedily go to 
pot to be served up at our next meal. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 139 

It is not probable that fishing for nippers from 
the rocks will satisfy the piscatorial desires of 
such enthusiastic anglers as are we, and without 
doubt we shall want to devote one day, and 
perhaps several, to deep-sea fishing for cod, and 
haddock, and mackerel. 

Then we must charter a fishing-smack, and a 
skipper to navigate the craft and furnish the 
lines and bait. An hour's sail, with a fair 
breeze, ought to bring us to the fishing-grounds, 
which our old Palinurus knows ' as well as we 
know our father's door-yard, for fishes are not, 
as many suppose, scattered uniformly through- 
out the ocean, but live together in communi- 
ties, largely, and leave other parts of the sea 
very thinly inhabited. 

So it is the business of the experienced tar 
who is with us to avoid the desert and to guide 
us, if possible, to the very Pekin of fishdom. 
Now, when we have cast anchor, we will bait 
our stout hooks with a generous piece of clam 
and sink them as many fathoms deep as our 
skipper advises. Perhaps we shall have to wait 



140 



OUR VACATIONS. 



long and patiently for the first bite, and per- 
haps, on the other hand, the line will hardly 
straighten itself out before a great jerk will an- 
nounce that the bait has been favorably received 
in the regions below. Cod and haddock are 
both strong and sure biting fish, and one rarely 
fails to draw them in. 

Sometimes each member of a codding party 
will catch great fish at the rate of one a min- 
ute for hours, and a muscle-tiring kind of work 
it then becomes. Most of the fish we shall 
catch will probably not run over eight or ten 
pounds in weight. They grow to a much larger 
size, however, often weighing fifty or sixty and 
sometimes a hundred pounds. A most impor- 
tant industry, as we all know, is the cod fish- 
ery, not only to our own sea-coast towns, but 
to the French and Canadian fishermen who fre- 
quent the Gulf of St. Lawrence and Newfound- 
land's banks. 

An inexhaustible aquarium, too, has the fish- 
erman to draw from, and he need have no fears 
that the supply will give out, when he remem- 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 141 

bers that at every spawning, a single cod depos- 
its over a million eggs. To be sure, very few 
of these eggs hatch out infant codlings, but for 
the most part they are destroyed by ravenous 
fish before even a fin or scale appears. 

And well is it that it is so, for it has been 
estimated that, in a very limited number of 
years, if every eg^ were allowed to develop into 
a full-grown cod, the whole ocean would be so 
thickly filled with them that navigation would 
be entirely stopped. But we shall be likely to 
find the actual state of affairs very different from 
this sitting with arms resting over the taffrail, 
waiting for the first unwary fish to bite, and 
doubtless wishing that Providence had allowed 
a few more eggs to come to maturity. 

The haddock, which is caught quite as often 
as his cousin the cod, is usually about the 
same size, and resembles him much in gen- 
eral appearance. Haddock abound all along 
our coast, in summer far outnumbering the cod, 
while in winter the order is reversed, and cod 
are more numerous. The haddock may be dis- 



142 



OUR VACATIONS. 



tiuguished by a black line which extends down 
each side from the gills to the tail, as well as by 
a dark spot, about the size of a three-cent piece, 
on either side of the head. Among Roman 
Catholic fishermen there is a legend that this is 
the fish which brought up the tribute-money at 
the command of our Lord, and that the dark 
spots under the gills are the marks of Peter's 
fingers. 

Perhaps the monotony of cod and haddock will 
be broken by the advent on deck of an ugly, 
spiny-backed, long-tailed scate ; and possibly one 
of the party will be fortunate enough to hook 
a halibut. If this should happen, all will excit- 
edly gather around the lucky man to witness the 
struggle. 

Even the skipper, to whom cod and haddock 
fishing is a dull, old story, lays aside his black 
T. D., and shows something like interest in the 
matter. How the line rattles over the rail as the 
great fish makes a dive for the bottom ! Now it 
slackens as he returns, and it is necessary to pull 
a little on the line, to see if he is exhausted. But 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 143 

_^ . . 

he is still too fresh to give up the fight, and off he 
shoots at a tangent, nearly taking his captor with 
him. Now to the right, now to the left, and 
then straight down he rushes ; but even a halibut 
cannot struggle forever, and by and by, complete- 
ly worn out, the noble fellow is drawn on deck. 
"A hundred pounder, if he weighs an ounce," 
says the skipper, sententiously. 

We must spend at least one half day, before we 
break camp, in trolling for bluefish — the most 
exciting of all kinds of sea-fishing. 

As we stand here on the rocks, do you see that 
commotion out in the water half a mile from the 
shore? That is caused by a school of bluefish, 
and some of those savage fellows, who are proba- 
bly now foraging for their breakflist, and bringing 
terror and destruction to smaller fish, we must 
have in our frying-pan this noon. So we jump 
into the dory and row out to the scene of 
action. 

The tackle for this kind of fishing is rather 
peculiar ; since, instead of using any bait, we 
simply have a piece of bright metal or jig, as it 



144 ^^^ VACATIONS. 



is called, attached with a hook to a strong line. 
Let one of the party row the dory alongside of 
the school at a moderate rate, while the rest of 
the party throw out jigs, which the motion of the 
boat is sufficient to keep floating on the sur- 
face of the water. But the eager bluefish will 
not give time for so many words of explana- 
tion, before, with a fierce splash, he seizes the 
glittering metal, and is jerked into the boat. 

The next moment the spoon (as the jig is 
often called) is again floating on the wave, to 
beguile a fresh victim. 

We must be careful, how^ever, when pulling in, 
to keep the line taut, since, if he has a chance, 
the bluefish will eschew the spoon, not finding it 
as digestible a morsel as he anticipated, and will 
disengage himself from the hook. If there is 
better sport than trolling for bluefish on a clear, 
breezy summer's day, pray let the world know 
what it is ! 

From its resemblance to the common mack- 
erel, the bluefish is often called the horse-mack- 
erel, though improperly, for the horse-mackerel 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 145 

is quite a different fish. It derives its name 
" bluefish " from the color of the upper part 
of its body ; and we shall find, at dinner time, 
that it is just as capital a fish to eat as to 
catch. 

There is no need, at this late point of the 
chapter, to say that there is no danger of the 
long summer daylianging heavily on one's hands, 
for the day's duties are by no means few or 
quickly accomplished. To catch fish enough to 
feed half a dozen sea-shore appetites three times 
a day is, of itself, no light task, to say nothing 
about cooking them. Then there is drift-wood to 
collect, and bait to find, and new places about the 
camp to explore, and at least two baths a day to 
take ; so there is not so much time as might at 
first be imagined for dignified leisure, or for 
stretching ourselves, like Turkish sultans, on the 
divans — otherwise called army blankets — of 
our tent. 

The daily bath is, of course, one of the great- 
est institutions of our life on the beach ; and of 
10 



146 OUR VACATIONS. 

all kinds of baths, we give the preference to 
those taken from the rocks at high tide. 

Talk about moral courage! We will trust 
that man on any battle-field, who will sit quietly 
on a rock, and let the first big wave dash over 
him, on a coolish day, when the water, fresh 
from the open sea, seems to be miraculously pre- 
served from freezing at a temperature far below 
32° Fahrenheit, and when every breath of spray 
that blows against him feels like a blast from the 
North Pole. It is amusing to watch men who 
have only the ordinary supply of fortitude in such 
a place. 

After the process of disrobing has been accom- 
plished, and the fantastic livery which Neptune 
prescribes for his receptions has been donned, the 
average man will dance about upon the rocks for 
an unnecessarily long time, as though this were 
a most important preliminary to a bath. Then 
he will place one foot daintily in the water, and 
quickly draw it back, with a sudden jerk, that 
nothing but a severe bite from a gallinipper can 
satisfactorily explain. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 147 

This operation will be repeated a dozen times, 
more or less, until, apparently ashamed of him- 
self, he takes his seat on a projecting ledge of 
rock, which the incoming tide has reached, to 
wait for the next wave, with a resolute look on 
his face, which plainly says, " I won't budge this 
time any way." Now he sees it coming, a quarter 
of a mile off — the m.onster which is to swallow 
him up if he keeps his seat. As the wave ap- 
proaches, the courage oozes out at his fingers' 
ends, and the resolute look begins slow^ly to fade 
from his face, until, just at the critical moment 
when the water is about to dash over him with 
an angry swash, up he jumps, and is high and 
dry on the bank above before the wave breaks 
upon his rock. 

However, after one has once been thoroughly 
wet down, one's courage to embrace the next 
wave is greatly increased, and each new bil- 
low is received with much laughter and many 
shivering, chattering shouts of welcome by the 
bathers. 

And now, what more need we say? You 



148 OUR VACATIONS, 

know where to go, what to do, and how to do it ; 
and when we add, that all this, at" a careful esti- 
mate, may be enjoyed for five dollars per week, 
we think it would be a clear waste of printer's 
ink and your time to add another page to this 
chapter. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 149 



CHAPTER V. * 

DOWN EAST. ST. JOHN. PRINCE EDWARD 

ISLAND. CAPE BRETON. HALIFAX. 

In spite of the comfortable satisfiiction one 
feels at having given good advice, it is hardly to 
be supposed that our counsel has been so gener- 
ally followed, that all readers, who are pondering 
how they will pass their vacation, have either 
ordered their mountain outfit, or picked out a 
camping-ground at the sea-shore, or decided to 
take the next train for the Dominion. To all 
who are still undecided we assume the liberty 
of putting a few catechetical questions. 

Is there at least one month of the twelve when 

* The substance of a part of this chapter appeared in 
a series of letters written by the author, in the sum- 
mer of 1872, to the Boston Daily Globe and to the 
Congregationalist. 



ISO 



OUR VACATIONS, 



it is your chief end and aim to keep cool? Then, 
" Young Man, go East," — go to the Maritime 
Provinces. 

Have you about a hundred dollars to spend 
on your summer vacation? There is no place 
where it will go farther, or do you more good, 
than in these same sea-coast dominions of Her 
Majesty. 

Have you an eye for the beautiful in inanimate 
nature, and for the simple and unassuming in 
human nature? Nowhere can you find these 
qualities in greater perfection than among the 
fertile plains of Prince Edward Island, or the 
rugged high lands of Cape Breton. 

Nothing better in the way of a summer cli- 
mate could any one want, than he will find 
throughout this whole region. Here, for weeks 
at a time, the thermometer never rises to a too 
dizzy altitude ; the sun's heat is grateful at mid- 
day, and no longer will you sigh for an abode 
in an ice-house, or for a lodge in some vast 
wilderness. 

Is not this a delightful state of things, and 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM, 151 

would not you enjoy them ? Yea, verily ; then 
meet us one of these bright mornings at the end 
of Commercial Wharf, in the good city of Boston, 
and with a St. John ticket in our pocket, and the 
smallest possible amount of baggage in our hand, 
we will step aboard the "- New York " or '' City 
of Portland," of the International Line. 

As the clock strikes eight, the whistle shrieks, 
the cables are loosed, demonstrative Bluenoses 
give their departing friends a hasty embrace, the 
gangways are hauled in ; the vessel quivers, 
throbs, and heaves; the wheel revolves, and — 
off we are, steaming through the shipping of the 
harbor. 

There is one commodity which travellers 
" Down East," and, for that matter, the world 
over, we suppose, are ve^ry apt to forget to in- 
clude in their list of indispensables when about 
to leave home. Yet this is more necessary to 
one's own comfort than the tooth-brush or the 
razor ; and if one of a company has forgotten to 
take it with him, all the rest lose an appreci- 
able proportion of their power of full enjoy- 



153 OUR VACATIONS. 

ment. The aforesaid article is a settled purpose 
to be pleased with whatever 07te sees. 

As the spires and chimneys of Boston fade 
away in the distance, one should leave among 
them the idea (though it may require the greatest 
mental effort of which the traveller is capable) 
that the Old Bay State and her sister common- 
wealths are the only really desirable places on 
the face of the globe. 

He should not find fault with " this confounded 
fog," or " that wretched rain," which is expected 
to-morrow, or with the " dreary shores of that 
barren province ; " but he should call the fog 
" invigorating, if it is a little moist," the rocky 
bluffs of the New Brunswick shore, surmounted 
by stunted pine trees, "grand and imposing;" 
the Dolly Varden light-houses, built of alternate 
layers of red and white bricks, " picturesque ; " 
and the occasional little beach of sand, with 
the fishers' white houses near by, and the green 
fields stretching far in beyond, " lovely and 
charming." 

But though fault-finding and complaint are 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 153 

to be repressed, don't suppose that we are about 
to waste any sickly sentimentality upon " the 
sea, the sea, the deep blue sea," or " life on the 
ocean wave," and all that sort of thing. 

" Life on the ocean wave " may be a very nice 
affair when enclosed by the sides of a music- 
rack, and no sort of objection can be made to 
" the deep blue sea," when you view it from 
terra Jirma^ with one of the good, old, ever- 
lasting rocks under your feet ; but a different 
sort of a thing altogether is it when you view 
those same blue waves from the steamer's deck, 
caring not a copper whether you are above or 
below them — afraid that you will die during 
the first hovu', and equally afraid during the 
second that you will not. 

If you have a deadly enemy upon whom you 
wish to be revenged, just prevail upon him to 
go aboard of some ocean steamer ; and then, 
during the first chopping sea, while he is leaning 
over the quarter-rail, gazing intently upon those 
" deep blue waves," or pretending that the lemon 
he holds in his hand is the most delicious of 



154 ^^^ VACATIONS. 

fruits, just ask him how he enjoys " Hfe on the 
ocean wave." 

All this by the way, however. 

An eight hours' sail from Boston brings us to 
Portland, and as the steamer lies here for an 
hour or two, there is ample opportunity to get 
a glimpse of the fine buildings, and broad, 
tree-lined avenues, of this handsome " Forest 
City." 

Eastport, the next stopping-place, — a town, 
situated near the entrance of Passamaquoddy 
Bay, — is much frequented by summer visitors. 
The waters of the adjacent bay afford fine op- 
portunities for yachting and fishing. Directly 
across the harbor, within the limits of the Do- 
minion of Canada, lies the interesting Island 
of Campobello, a favorite resort for sailing and 
chowder parties. 

The afternoon's sail will be delightful by the 
red rocks of the New Brunswick coast, rising 
sheer out of the water from fifty to two hundred 
feet. 

On the whole, however, the bold, rocky shores, 



HO^ TO ENJOY THEM. 155 

worn smooth by the continual dashing of white 
waves, and crowned with low pine trees, make 
one's first impression of New Brunswick grand 
and picturesque, rather than beautiful. 

But St. John harbor, which is reached about 
sunset, makes up for all the loveliness we have 
lacked before ; for nothing can be more charming 
than the islands and shores clad in emerald 
green, with the city sitting regally on a bluff 
that rises directly out of the water on one side, 
and the smiling slopes of Carleton on the other, 
while the multitude of fishing-boats and larger 
craft give an air of life and animation to the 
scene. 

Even the model tourist, who is conscientiously 
determined to be pleased with whatever he sees, 
will be a little disappointed with the city of St. 
John ; for, with cities as with men, the gods never 
bestow all their blessings upon the same individ- 
ual. And St. John, though unrivalled in sit- 
uation, presents a half-baked, unfinished, shiftless 
appearance, which is hardl}'^ pleasing to the 
eyes of a Yankee visitor. 



156 OUR VACATIONS. 

The streets, though wide and regular, are not 
well paved, and tire not paved at all for the most 
part-; the houses, principally of wood, are of a 
uniform sombre brown color, which gives a 
dingy appearance to the whole place, and there 
are no buildings of particular beauty. 

To- this last statement, however, the Victoria 
Hotel, and two or three private residences on the 
west side of the city, form pleasing exceptions. 
■ Nevertheless the St. Johnnies are very proud 
of their city, the fourth in size in the Domin- 
ion, and justly so too ; for what constitutes a 
pleasant city? Not showy buildings and well- 
paved streets alone, by any means ; but a 
pleasant and healthful climate, " first chop " 
scenery, as Sam Slick would say, abundant 
and cheap markets, and hospitable inhabitants ; 
all which advantages St. John possesses in full 
measure. 

One is struck, on first walking up from the 
wharf, by the great number of the smallest of 
hotels that are to be seen, each burdened with 
a ridiculously high-sounding name. Thus, here 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 157 

is a shabby wooden building, with three or four 
windows on each story, which a flaming sign 
over the door informs us is the " Grand Inter- 
national Hotel." That little martin-box on the 
right is the " Revere," perchance, and the one 
on the other side of the street is the " Royal 
Castle House." 

The interior of these hotels, however, belies 
their sign-boards less than the exterior, and by 
the time we sit down to the bountiful table which 
the attentive landlord will spread for us, we 
shall begin to think that the name was not so 
ill chosen, after all. 

But to be a little more explicit in regard to 
our hotel : the choice lies between the Victoria 
House (which is the only first-class house in the 
city, according to Boston notions, and where the 
charges are three dollars per day) and any one 
of the numerous third, fourth, fifth, down to fif- 
teenth-class houses with which the city abounds. 

We can recommend the Grand Central Hotel, 
the American House, or the Waverley House, as 
furnishing very tolerable accommodations at a 



158 OUR VACATIONS. 

moderate price — one dollar and fifty cents fer 
diem we believe. 

With the exception of one or two streets, the 
buildings are principally of wood, and a few 
hours of a Chicago or Boston fire would lay the 
whole cit}^ in ashes. A descendant of Ham, of 
whom inquiry was made for a sightly place to 
view the city, replied, with a royal flourish of 
his ebony palms, "Jest go up onto this yar bluff, 
and you will see de whole combustible." Our 
sable friend, in his desire for a long word, used 
one that applies to St. John better, prolDably, 
than he was aware. 

The people of St. John, as well as all whom 
we shall see throughout the province, impress 
one very favorably. A healthier, ruddier set of 
men are not to be found on this footstool, and, 
as Dr. Lewis would say, their digestion being 
good, and their health perfect, we find them 
always ready to answer the thousand questions 
which a stranger is moved to ask. 

No sweltering days and moist, sticky, unrest- 
ful nights do we here experience ; but, as an 



HO IV TO ENJOY THEM. 159 

intelligent knight of the hod assured us, " Ye 
may walk the strates all day and not sweat a 
drop, and at night, bedad, ye will feel the good 
of the clothes ! " 

The air, too, is remarkably invigorating — 
just warm enough, just cool enough ; and a sea 
breeze is blowing at all times of day, the city 
being almost surrounded by the ocean. 

To reach Shediac, which is something like 
a hundred miles from St. John, we take the 
European and North American Railway, and 
are whirled through the very heart of New 
Brunswick, along the coast of the Bay of Fundy. 
Past snug farm-houses and rich farms the track 
leads us ; past the silvery lake near Claremont, 
where the great international rowing race took 
place — a race which proved to be the last for 
poor Renforth ; and our time-table says that we 
are borne through villages bearing the eupho- 
nious names of Quispanisis, Passekeag, Apoha- 
qui, Plumweseep, and Anagance. But further 
deponent saith not, except that all these much- 
named towns present a singular though hardly 



i6o OUR VACATIONS. 

pleasing uniformity, since they invariably con- 
sist of a good station, a wretched grocery store 
and groggery combined, and an extensive mud- 
puddle. 

Moncton, one of the largest towns on our 
route, contains some fine railroad repair-shops, 
and some unusually extensive mud-puddles, 
which would seem to render gondolas indispen- 
sable. Years ago Moncton was a town of con- 
siderable importance, being at the head of the 
main branch of the Bay of Fundy ; but for 
many years past Father Time has done pretty 
much as he pleased with the old town, rotting 
a house here and another there, tumbling down 
this wall and starting a growth of weeds and 
grass in that street, until we could easily have 
imagined it to be the veritable deserted village 
of which the poet sung. Very recently, how- 
ever, the iron road, that great energizer of the 
modern world, has begun to put new life into 
the grass-grown streets and moss-grown houses, 
and the town is quite renewing her youth. 

At Moncton we leave the valley of the Bay of 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. i6i 

Fundy, and strike across the country towards 
the Straits of Northumberland. This is, there- 
fore, a favorable opportunity to refer briefly to 
the wonderful tides in the bay. The flood tides 
here sometimes take the very rare and terrible 
form of the *' bore " — a great, perpendicular 
wall of water rushing up the bay, passing diago- 
nally from side to side, and overwhelming every- 
thing in its path. 

Imagine the stranger who might happen to be 
walking in the dry bed of the bay just before the 
coming of the " bore," roused from his reverie 
upon mud, muscles, and clams, whose happiness 
at high water is always such an appropriate and 
convenient simile, by a mighty, rushing, gur- 
gling roar in the far distance. 

Instantly a graphic picture of his younger 
days will come to his mind, representing a dis- 
tressed looking Pharaoh, surrounded by a few 
wretched followers, standing upon the topmost 
point of a very sharp rock, in the midst of some 
extraordinary looking waves, while a row of 
jolly Israelites are grinning at them from the 
II 



i62 OUR VACATIONS. 

safe bank of the other side ; and he will infiagine 
that he hears a chorus of Jubilee Singers on the 
bank above him, chanting, — 

"To drown old Pharo's army, hallelujah, 
To drown old Pharo's army, hallelu." 

But he must dismiss both Pharaoh's army 
and the Jubilee Singers from his thoughts, and 
run for his life, for the roar which he hears in 
the distance proceeds from the " bore," ten feet 
high (if it happens to be at the time of spring 
tide), coming towards him at the rate of twelve 
miles an hour, and bringing sure destruction to 
man, or beast, or boat, that may be in its way. 
The tide rises thirty feet here, — not so high by 
half as at some other parts of the bay, — and the 
wave which leads the van is the only remark- 
able one, the others being scarcely a tenth of 
its size. 

Shediac is reached soon after we start from 
Moncton station, and here w^e leave the train. 
The European and North American runs two 
miles farther, and ends at the coast, at a little 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 163 

place called Point du Chene. But may you not, 
my reader, be obliged to tarry long at Shediac, 
waiting for the Prince Edward Island boat, for 
this is, without doubt, one of the most slipshod 
places to be found on our little planet. 

Do you wish for a minute description of this 
lovely retreat? Take the most wretched New 
England village, of about seventy-five houses, to 
be found in either of our six Puritanic common- 
wealths ; bring all the two-story houses to the 
level of cottages ; tear off every blind in the 
place ; paint all the houses a dingy color ; turn 
every store and shop, where a scrap of reading 
matter can be bought, into a grocery and grog- 
gery ; dig cradle-holes in all the roads large 
enough to bury the horse and buggy with which 
you jolt over them ; level all the hills within 
twenty miles ; cut down half of the forest trees, 
and turn the rest into stunted spruces ; meta- 
morphose all the fields and pastures into bogs and 
swamps ; and run a muddy bay, with a muddier 
shore, along one side of the town, and you have 
a twin Shediac in Massachusetts, which it would 



164 OUR VACATIONS. 

be hard to distinguished from the New Bruns- 
wick original. 

But even Shediac has its redeeming qualities ; 
for, as is the case with all these provincial sen- 
coast towns, in the way of climate nothing bet- 
ter could be desired. The air, always cool and 
fresh, has a certain invigorating quality which 
turns the blue of one's mental firmament into 
the rosiest colors (if one lives here long enough, 
the blue is all driven to the nose), and it is said 
to be impossible for a hypochondriac to live 
within a dozen miles of the place. 

Besides its climate, Shediac can boast of a 
large saw-mill, which turns out six million feet 
of lumber during the three months of the year it 
is in operation. 

Here a log is taken in the rough, and by the 
aid of a gang-saw to cut it into the right thick- 
nesses, and a circular saw to trim off the edges, 
in an incredibly short time the sturdy pine trunk 
is transformed into planks or boards, ready to be 
shipped to Europe. Four hundred logs a day 
take the shape of building material in this one 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 165 

mill, and many other mills along the coast turn 
out an equal amount of lumber, all of which 
is shipped directly to European ports. 

The two churches of the place may also be 
ranked among its redeeming features, for they 
are neat, attractive buildings, which would be a 
disgrace to no village in the land. 

They have a novel method, however, of 
calling people to the sanctuary in Shediac. 
When the appointed time arrives, a small boy 
with a huge dinner-bell mounts the .topmost 
step, and by shaking his bell, proclaims to all 
within hearing that divine service is about to 
begin. Doubtless this method answers every 
purpose, though the effect is hardly soul-inspir- 
ing, since it is more likely to lead one to reflect 
upon his gastronomic wants, than his spiritual 
necessities. 

The inhabitants of Shediac, like most people 
in the province, are free and open-hearted, polite 
to strangers, and proud of their native town and 
country. 

To them no land is equal to the fields and 



i66 OUR VACATIONS. 

meadows of Nev/^ Brunswick ; their row of 
straggling houses is a " thriving village," and 
the little stretch of mud and sand is a *' lovely 
beach." For dwellers in such a place this bliss- 
ful contentment is invaluable. May you ever, 
dear New Brunswickans, continue to jolt over 
your wretched highways with the same self- 
satisfied faces that you now wear ! 

But whatever day of the week we reach 
Shediac, Tuesday or Friday morning will at 
length cpme round, and bring with it one of the 
Prince Edward Island steamers, to transport 
us from the dreary wastes which surround 
Shediac to that lovely isle which long ago re- 
ceived the name of the old Duke of Kent — 
Prince Edward. 

A perfect gem is this island, — a beautiful 
emerald, the largest and brightest of all the 
jewels which adorn the bosom of the grSat 
gulf. 

Do not smile at this enthusiastic statement, 
for it is strictly true, as every traveller will vote 
when steaming up to the Summerside Wharf, and 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 167 

seeing the long reaches of green fields on either 
side, without a rock, or cliff, or withered pasture, 
to mar the quiet loveliness of the scene. There 
are sixt}'- miles of coast of the same character, 
which the eye cannot reach, stretching away on 
either side. 

Neither does distance, by any means, lend all 
the enchantment to the view, for when we land 
from the steamer and take the coach, fields 
of the same unrivalled green will meet our eye, 
throughout the length and breadth of the island, 
and we exclaim, " O for perpetual summer, to 
make Prince Edward Island the paradise of the 
globe!" 

But, alas ! our wish is far from granted, for 
throughout more than seven months of the year 
the frost king holds undisputed sway, and our 
charming isle is as dreary and prosaic as can 
well be imagined. ^ 

Even in summer the occasional evidences of 
man's hand would remind one that he is still on 
this mundane sphere, while at the same time, 
from the style of architecture of severe simplicity. 



1 68 OUR VACATIONS. 

which the natives have adopted in building their 
houses, one is led to think that, in their opinion, 
at least, the island is beautiful enough already, 
without any effort on their part to improve it. 

Summerside, where we land, is a more forsaken 
place even than Shediac ; and if we stay but a 
short time, the only remembrance of the town 
we shall carry away, will be of a row of extra- 
ordinarily mean-looking houses, planted helter- 
skelter in the midst of a great pasture of live 
stock, composed of equal parts of scurvy dogs, 
draggled geese, and dirty children. 

Bagnall's coach for Charlottetown, however, 
will take us out of the vicinity of Summerside at 
an early hour. The ride will well repay us for 
rising at the first call of the blue-bird, for though 
Mr. Bagnall's coaches are hardly first class, we 
shall find much to interest us in this fortj^ miles, 
'^j^.he first thing that strikes the eye is the uniform 
excellence of the hay-fields. No starveling 
patches of clover do we see, and spindling crops 
of grass, where each individual Timothy Grass 
seems afraid of his next neighbor, and tries to 



HO IV TO ENJOY THEM. 169 

keep at a respectful distance ; but broad acres of 
the stoutest grass, red with clover blossoms, or 
waving like a wheat-field, with the full heads of 
timothy or herds-grass. The fields of potatoes, 
too, white with blossoms, if it is late in the 
summer, it would be hard to beat, even in that 
land of murphies — the Emerald Isle. 

Oats, also, do remarkably well in the light, 
red loam which forms the inland soil ; and barley 
and rye, as well as most of the hardier vegeta- 
bles, are raised to a considerable extent. 

The three months of warm weather which the 
province enjoys hardly gives the corn time to 
ripen ; and the only field of corn which we ever 
saw on the island, had, when about a foot high, 
made a sickly attempt to tassel out, but had sig- 
nally failed. 

There are scarcely any stones on the island ; 
the few that are to be found are a soft, friable 
sandstone, which seems in a hurry to crumble 
back to sand again, and leave the soil wholly free 
from any impediment to the farmer's plough. 
The inhabitants here have a curious way, we 



170 



OUR VACATIONS. 



shall notice, of economizing their few precious 
stones in building roadside walls. First they lay 
a course of pebbles, then a thick layer of sod, 
then another course of pebbles, another layer of 
sod, and so on, until they have made a stout and 
quite durable wall, out of sods and small stones, 
which our farmers would consider worthless for 
such a purpose. 

Other things which will strike one as curious 
are the little barns with movable roofs, which are 
to be seen on every side. Instead of having one 
or two large barns, the islanders have several, per- 
haps many small ones. These are walled up to 
the height of ten feet or so, and above the walls 
extend four uprights as much higher. Through 
a hole in each corner of the roof these uprights 
are placed, and upon them the roof slides up or 
down, always resting on the hay underneath. 
Thus, in the fall of the year, a stranger, by sim- 
ply glancing at the barns on the road-side, could 
tell whether it was a year of plenty or a season 
of scarcity ; for if " the labor of the husband- 
man had been blessed," as the Thanksgiving 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 171 

proclamations say, the little i:oof will be raised 
to the topmost notch, and the barns will be burst- 
ing out with plenty ; but if Jack Frost comes too 
early and nips the crop, the roofs of the barns 
will proclaim it by resting flat upon the walls, 
while the long posts stretch gaunt and bare above 
them. 

If we go out to ride, we shall find that, " turn 
out to the left^ as the law directs," is the rule 
here, and a most perplexing rule for a Yankee to 
drive b}^ it is, too ; and we shall have many 
narrow escapes from collision with the decidedly 
antiquated and rickety teams of the people of 
the land. 

Our text-books on natural history are faulty 
in one respect ; not one of them contains the 
following passage : — 

" What creatures besides antelopes are noted 
for their wonderful curiosity?" 

" Ans. The inhabitants of some of the smaller 
Provincial towns." 

When the stranger first enters one of these vil- 
lages, he is surprised to see every doorway, and 



172 OUR VACATIONS. 

window, and street corner crowded with men, 
women, and children, whose sole purpose in life 
seems to be to gaze upon his form and features. 
The emotions of this stranger will be various. 
First, the thought flits through his mind that this 
is a village of detectives, and that he is suspected 
of some great crime, on which account each of 
the inhabitants is mentally taking his photograph 
and exact measurements. 

But the idea is so preposterous that even the 
infants in arms should belong to the detective 
corps, that he soon abandons this notion, and 
emotions of pleasure take its place. " Ah," says 
he to himself, " I must have become very distin- 
guished since I left home ; received the nomina- 
tion for governor or congressman, perhaps, or at 
least ' alderman of my native town.' Who 
knows.? And though I have not heard of it my- 
self, it has got to the ears of these good people, 
and they take this method of showing their ap- 
probation. But it is very singular," he thinks, 
'* that they utter no word, neither give vent to 
their feelings in a single cheer ; " and about this 



now TO ENJOY THEM. 173 

time, his joy gives place to terror and dismay, as 
he thinks, " What is the matter with my face or 
figure ? Are my feet turning into hoofs, or my 
ears into horns? Is my skin becoming bkick, or 
is there a great rent in the back of my coat?" 

And he rushes home, and to his looking-glass, 
in great anxiety, to find his personal appearance 
unchanged, and to anathematize the stupid curi- 
osity of the natives. 

But this trait, is not characteristic of all the 
people of the provinces, by any means ; it ap- 
pears only in a few less favored regions ; for 
in general the people are as polite, genial, and 
hospitable as any one could wish. Indeed, it is 
said that on Prince Edward Island the belated 
traveller will find at any farm-house, when 
night overtakes him, food and bed of the best 
quality, for which the good farmer feels insulted 
to be ofiered pay. 

But we were just starting out from Summer- 
side, at five o'clock in the morning. Soon we 
reach "• Hazel Grove," as Farmer Bagnall calls 
his half-way house, between Summerside and 



174 



OUR VACATIONS. 



Charlottetown ; and while we are waiting to have 
our horses changed, we may as well step inside 
and partake of a first-class breakfast of salmon or 
mackerel, lobsters, mutton (the island is noted 
for its fine mutton), and cold beef, with their 
usual concomitants, for all of which the modest 
sum of twenty-five cents is considered a full 
equivalent. 

Moreover, w^e must not fail to visit Mrs. Bag- 
nail's fragrant dairy, and her fine kitchen garden, 
which is quite a marvel for these cold northern 
latitudes. 

If it is as late as the middle of August, she 
will point out, with evident pride, her rows of 
" early green peas," just beginning to fill out. 

Early green peas in the middle of August; 
think of that, ye Massachusetts farmers, whose 
dry pea-vines hang at that time, sear and yellow, 
on rustling bushes ! 

We would suggest to any devoted lover of 
early fruits and vegetables, that he might greatly 
prolong his enjoyment by following the seasons 
along as it were, by travelling through various 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM,. I'j^ 

2t 

climes. For instance, starting in the tropics in 
the month of March, he might enjoy his straw- 
berries and cherries, green peas and asparagus, 
during the very first days of spring. Then he 
would slowly journey to more temperate climes, 
keeping pace with the northward progress of 
his favorite dishes, until at length, the first part 
of autumn would find him eating strawberries 
and green peas in Mrs. Bagnall's garden, at 
Hazel Grove. 

Twenty miles of stage-coach ride from Hazel 
Grove brings us to Charlottetown, the capital 
and largest city of the island ; and quite pleased 
shall we be with the appearance of the place. 
Ten thousand people, living for the most part in 
low, brown, wooden houses, arranged on wide 
and regular streets, compose the population of 
this very quiet, orderly city. 

The commerce of Charlottetown is already 
considerable, and the excellent harbor will admit 
of a great metropolis on this Island of Prince 
Edward, should the great trade-winds ever blow 
strongly in this direction. 



176 . OUR VACATIONS. 

. . ■» 

Though Charlottetown can boast of but few- 
fine buildings, yet she possesses two or three 
fine government houses. They are built of 
brown sandstone, brought at great expense from 
New Brunswick, and, standing in the principal 
square, are a great ornament to the place. The 
great want of the city is good hotel accommo- 
dations. The public houses are all small, the 
tables rather poor, and all are so much alike 
that it will be of little use to mention the names 
of any. 

The school system of the island appears to be 
in rather a primitive state, though the school- 
houses along the road much resemble (in all 
respects but their shingled sides and their lack 
of paint) the corresponding nurseries for young 
ideas in New Hampshire and Vermont. One 
is in no danger of forgetting, how^ever, that he 
is no longer in the land of Young America, 
when, as he rides by, he sees the rows of school 
boys and girls draw^n up on both sides of the 
road, respectfully pulling their forelocks, and 
dropping courtesies to the passing stranger. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 177 

We are told that the school-mistresses, who 
instil ideas of politeness and of the alphabet 
into the young islanders, receive forty pounds a 
year for their services, and doubtless deem them- 
selves " passing rich " at that. " Forty pounds, 
or one hundred and thirty-two dollars," as one 
of them informed us. 

From recollections of early school-days, and 
of the table of English money, we had always 
supposed that forty pounds was more than one 
hundred and thirty-two dollars, but surely, the 
" school-marm " ought to know. 

Provisions are wonderfully cheap on this isle 
of plenty. To illustrate the low prices prevail- 
ing in these favored domains of royalty, let us 
suppose that we have gone to housekeeping 
here, and are about to sit down to a "good 
square meal," to fill up the vacancy which a 
long ride over the billowy roads of the island 
has left. 

That plate of fresh salmon which first comes 
on has cost five cents per pound, if it is in the 
salmon season, while, if a fish of the species 
12 



178 OUR VACATIONS, 



chosen to grace the Massachusetts Hall of Rep- 
resentatives, had been preferred, we might have 
bought a fifteen pounder for half as many cop- 
pers. Of course, since we are in the land of 
John Bull, we must not discard the national dish ; 
and for that choice roast which next makes its 
appearance the price was ten cents per pound, 
while the mutton chop by its side cost us just 
half as much. 

The chickens which flank the roast beef have 
cost thirty-two cents per pair ; the eggs are 
twelve cents per dozen ; the butter fifteen, and 
the cheese five, cents per pound. 

Of course this is very extravagant ; but, then, 
one must eat something, you know, even if he 
don't lay up a cent ; and he may as well grow 
poor on such things as spend all his substance 
for fresh mackerel at thirty cents a dozen, or lob- 
sters at a cent and a half apiece. Indeed, such 
privations in the line of fresh provisions do these 
poor islanders endure, that it has been thought 
best, in some quarters, to re-enact the old Con- 
necticut law, that " no master mechanic shall 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM, 179 

give his apprentices fresh salmon to eat more 
than three times a week." 

The small change witli which pay is given for 
these necessaries of hfe is rather perplexing to eyes 
accustomed to greenback currency ; for besides 
the dimes, half dimes, and quarters, whose God- 
dess of Liberty wears a strangely familiar ex- 
pression, we are continually exercising our reck- 
oning powers to ascertain the value of certain 
twenty, twenty-four, forty-eight, and sixty cent 
pieces, besides a liberal sprinkling of sixpences, 
shillings, and florins, bearing the queen's image 
and superscription ; and occasionally the grouty 
visages of Georgius IV. or Gulielmus IV. find 
their way into our pocket-book, carrying with 
them far greater veneration than the memory of 
those royal personages themselves is likely to do. 

On the whole, the people of Prince Edward, 
politically and socially, are very much like the 
rest of the great world about them. The men 
wrangle and grow furious over politics ; the 
women gossip in the most approved fashion ; 
and the young folks put on airs, and aftection- 



i8o OUR VACATIONS. 

ately designate their " parients " as " paw," 
and " maw," just as though three thousand miles 
of ocean did not roll between them and London 
aristocracy. 

While New Brunswick and Nova Scotia be- 
longed to the Dominion of Canada from the 
beginning. Prince Edward Island long remained 
independent, exceedingly jealous of everything 
Canadian, and until very recently has been gov- 
erned in all matters by Houses of Senators and 
Commons of its own. 

This little province, too, of scarce a hundred 
thousand souls, has, according to its papers, a 
complete Tammany of its own, and its handful 
of legislators find it impossible to perform the 
functions of their office without expending sev- 
eral thousand dollars annually for pocket-knives, 
brandy, lead pencils at two dollars apiece, &c., 
if the opposition journals are to be believed. 
Base imitators these of our ignoble example ! 

A railroad (the first the province has ever 
had) has recently been constructed from Sum- 
merside to Charlottetown, and is now open for 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 



passenger traffic, we believe, so that in the future 
travellers will have a more speedy method of 
reaching the capital, if they choose to go by rail. 
Still, q^n a bright summer morning, for pure air, 
lovely scenery, and a pleasant glimpse of coun- 
try life in the province, commend us to a top 
seat on one of Mr. Bagnall's coaches. 

Rustico, a little village eighteen miles from 
Charlottetown, is where the people of " the city" 
rusticate, and it is almost the onl}^ watering-place 
on the island. The ride to Rustico and back 
will fill up one day of our stay at Charlottetown 
very pleasantly, and, if in the season, we can 
have rare sport with the flocks of snipe, ducks, 
and other waterfowl w^hich here frequent the 
coast. One day, too, must be devoted to fishing, 
for famous are the trout brooks of Prince Ed- 
ward's land. 

For nearly half of the year communication 
between the island and main land is kept up with 
great difficulty and danger, for all the harbors 
are frozen over five feet thick or more ; and very 
frequently the whole gulf, from shore to shore, 



1 82 OUR VACATIONS. 

is covered with ice. At such times the mails are 
transported on ice-boats, which are so construct- 
ed that they can be drawn over the ice or pro- 
pelled through the water with equal facility. In 
summer, however, an excellent line of steamers 
plies between Charlottetown and the coast of 
New Brunswick and Nova Scotia ; and if we 
have seen all that the time of our vacation allows 
of this Qiieen of the St. Lawrence Gulf, we will 
take the steamer St. Lawrence or the Princess 
of Wales for Cape Breton. 

Our first stopping-place will be Pictou, a 
name connected, no doubt, in many of our 
minds, chiefly with the grimy coal-barges which 
frequent our harbors. Years ago, Pictou was a 
place of considerable importance, as the seat of 
an extensive lumber trade ; but gradually the 
forests w^ere cut oft', lumber became scarce, and 
Pictou's glory seemed waning. About this time, 
however, rich deposits of coal were found in the 
neighborhood ; and now the place is more flour- 
ishing than at first, and the fossilized forests of 
antediluvian days seem likely to be a more lasting 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 183 



benefit to the region than were the pine groves 

of the present century. 

But we have hardly time to think of Pictou's 

varied fortunes, and to notice the fine Catholic 
If 

church on the hill, — placed on the highest point 
of land, it is said, that the sailor, as he nears 
harbor, may first of all see its spire pointing 
heavenwards, — before the lines are cast off, the 
heavy walking-beam begins its regular march 
again, and we are headed for Port Hawksbury, 
in the Gut of Canso. 

We should like to introduce our readers to 
Port Hawksbury, as we saw it for the first time 
one lovely August afternoon. The setting sun 
was just throwing his last horizontal rays 
straight through the gap which the Gut of Canso 
makes between Cape Breton and the main land 
of Nova Scotia. On the right towered the 
bristling heights of Cape Porcupine, while on 
the left stretched far away the bold and rugged 
scenery of Cape Breton. 

The steamer seemed to be ploughing through 
liquid gold, instead of salt sea brine, and it required 



184 OUR VACATIONS. 

little imagination to lead to the idea that every 
turn of the strait would bring us to the entrance 
of some enchanted palace, or to some Sindbad's 
cave in the mountain side. 

Soon w^e draw up to the Port Hawksbury 
wdiarf, and here we may as well dismiss all 
poetic notions, for a scene awaits us which we 
are sure has its match nowhere else on the 
globe. 

Instead of the hospitable descendants of the 
English, whom we have seen heretofore, a crowd 
of brawny sons of Caledonia greet us, all clad 
in gray homespun, and chattering a most fearful 
language, which sounds like the roll of distant 
thunder, the crash of crockery, and the jabber 
of a dozen Dutchmen, all rolled into one. 

To get a clearer idea of the scene, imagine 
half a hundred French Canadian teams (the most 
ancient of vehicles, and most bony of horses, like 
those which visit our New England villages 
each summer) collected into a small space near 
the wharf; then imagine each one of the Canuck 
owners of these turnouts shouting, and yelling, 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 1S5 

and pulling, and winking, and whispering to 
your individual self, to induce you to employ 
him to carry you to West Bay, thirteen miles 
distant, and you have some notion of the scene 
which greets the arrival of each steamer at the 
port. 

First, a big Scotchman seizes you by the arm, 
as though he would carry you to West Bay 
bodily. Him you shake off with difficulty, when 
another son of Anak embraces you on the other 
side. 

Over there stands a stout Jehu, who beckons 
and smiles in a most familiar way, after the 
"long-lost-brother" fashion, and you almost 
feel that it is a personal slight to neglect his 
entreaties. 

Just behind him stands another, who winks 
at you in a confidential manner, as much as to 
say, '' All these other chaps are impostors. I 
am the only regular, first-class wagon." 

We choose the least importunate of our newly- 
made friends, and with many contortions of 
body and groanings of spirit, we stow ourselves 



iS6 OUR VACATIONS. 

away on the back seats, while the big Cale- 
donian mounts in fi'ont. 

Would you know the most approved method 
of riding over these mountain roads? Keep 
your eyes riveted on the road, about ten rods 
ahead of your Bucephalus ; then, when you see 
that he is approaching a cradle-hole, large stone, 
or rickety bridge, shut your eyes, hold your 
breath, raise yourself about six inches from your 
seat, and try to lose your consciousness, until 
you get over the obstacle, and on the smooth 
ground beyond. To be sure, if you adopt this 
method, you will use your seats but very little; 
but then the effect is exhilarating, or exciting, to 
say the least, and on the whole these roads are 
excellent preventives of indigestion. 

Whether the horses have no great expecta- 
tions of oats awaitingf them in the manner at 
home, or perhaps for some other reason, they are 
not very ambitious to get over the road, and it 
takes all the driver's powers of persuasion to 
keep them moving. 

First, he encourages them by a long series of 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 187 

clucks ; then he varies the monotony by re- 
marking, " Git up, g'long," several hundred 
times in no subdued tone ; then he pours forth 
a large number of Gaelic expletives, and by this 
time is ready to return to the original clucks. 

Feeling in a communicative mood, yve attempt 
to carry on a conversation with him. 

" Well, driver, do you ever see any game in 
these regions? " 

*' Yes (Git up ; g'long ; hi, there ; gee. Buck ; 
git up ; g'long, g'long) — sometimes." And 
now follows half a page of horse talk, peculiar 
to Breton drivers, which can't possibly be writ- 
ten ; and then we venture to ask., — 

"What do you find to shoot, driver?" 

" Pa'tridges (Git up ; keep the road ; g'long, 
there) — ducks " (now comes a prolonged hiss 
at the nigh horse), " rabbits, and you sometimes 
see — (Hi, there; what are you about, Charlie? 
git up, git up; g'long)." During a long list of 
Gaelic adjectives which follow, we rather lose 
the connection of his discourse, and he shouts 
out — " a bear " 



OUR VACATIONS. 



"Where? where?" we excitedly cry, while the 
ladies of the party are preparing to faint, and 
things generally begin to look serious. But our 
driver continues to cluck calmly to his nags, 
and explains himself by remarking, " I only 
said (G'long, Buck; don't be lazy, Charlie), 
that I see a bear " — " Where is he? " we again 
demand ; while the ladies entreat, '• Do, dear 
Mr. Driver, please hurry on ! " But our big 
Scotchman finishes his series of clucks before 
he does his sentence — " now and then in the 
woods." 

We recognize the force of the old saying, 
that no man can do two things well at the 
same time, and conclude not to question our 
driver to any great extent during the rest of the 
ride. 

At West Bay there is a little steamer ready 
to carry us to Sydney, a hundred and twenty 
miles distant ; and after paying Jehu a dollar 
apiece, which he has fairly earned, we go on 
board, and are soon threading our way through 
the intricacies of the Bras d'Or. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 189 

And a wonderful inland sea is this Bras d'Or, 
— the Mediterranean of North America, — one 
hundred miles long, and from ten rods to ten 
miles wide. It extends throughout the entire 
length of Cape Breton, dividing the island into 
two peninsulas. 

High mountains enclose the lake on all sides, 
sometimes rising abruptly from the water, — 
then twice viewed, once in the clear air above, 
and once in the blue depths beneath, — at other 
times tinged with blue by the distance, while 
between them and the water's bank are long 
slopes of cultivated land, dotted here and there 
with the white cottages of »the farmers or fish- 
ermen. 

The inhabitants of Cape Breton number about 
twenty-five thousand, and for the mOst part they 
are purely Scotch. In many places the people 
speak nothing but their native tongue, and the 
stranger finds it very difficult to understand or 
to be understood, as Gaelic is one of the most 
unspeakable languages in the world. Moreover, 
these Bretoners are a very primitive race in ev- 



I90 OUR VACATIONS. 

ery sense of the word ; tall, broad-shouldered, 
and muscular, they are clad almost universally 
in gray homespun, and live in the smallest of 
white-washed cottages. Their wants are sup- 
plied without difficulty, for a few acres of cul- 
tivated land give them plenty of oatmeal, and 
the Bras d'Or is filled with all varieties of fine 
fish, which may be very easily caught. 

The Kirk of Scotland (Presbyterian) is the 
only church which flourishes among these peo- 
ple, and it is said that they still prefer sermons 
of two hours' length to any other. 

As we steam along through the unruffled 
waters of the "Arm of Gold," far off there to 
the eastward we can just discern the marble 
mountain, whose white sides glisten afar in the 
sunlight. The marble, which is very fair, though 
not of the best quality, has not yet been quar^- 
ried to any considerable extent. 

Besides the marble mountain, the geologist 
finds many other objects of interest. One of 
these is the stratum of coal which underlies 
much of this island, and which is supposed to 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM, ., 191 

stretch in a continuous belt from Sydney to 
Pictou, a distance of a hundred and fifty miles. 
But especially will the geologist be interested in 
the numerous fossils to be found on these shores. 
Branches of trees he will find turned into the 
solid rock ; stigmaria and sigillaria, with their 
bark and all their depressions and roughnesses 
as plainly visible as they were twenty thousand 
years ago; delicate ferns, and the skeletons of 
various leaves firmly embedded in the hard stone ; 
and all these treasures, at which we usually gaze 
under the glass cases of a cabinet, to be had for 
nothing on the shores of Cape Breton. 

The coal deposits of this region are really 
wonderful. Dig a few feet dow^nwards in almost 
anyplace, and you will strike a rich seam of these 
black diamonds. In many spots along the 
shore, the earth having been washed away by 
the waves, the coal has fallen down upon the 
pebbly beach in considerable quantities, and is 
there collected by the inhabitants. 

Many families, however, need not go even 
so far as this for their fuel, but, just stepping 



192 ^ 067? VACATIONS. 

iown cellar, they find a natural coal-bin, as 
inexhaustible as the widow's barrel of meal, 
all prepared for them. The coal is bituminous, 
and not the best for family use, but excellent for 
steam-producing purposes. 

The entrance to the Bras d'Or from the Gulf 
of St. Lawrence is one of the most remarkable 
features of this inland sea. For nearly two 
miles we steam through a narrow and tortuous 
pass, along which only a steamer of very small 
dimensions can make its way, and throughout 
the whole distance w^e could almost jump from 
our little craft to the shore of either peninsula 
of Cape Breton. A beautiful sail is this through 
the " narrows ; " the strait seems to open a 
passage for the prow as we go on, until the 
white breakers and dashing waves proclaim 
that we are out once more in the great gulf. 

On either side of the outer entrance of the 
Bras d'Or tower rocky headlands, ^ which, at 
a little distance, much resemble fortresses. Half 
a dozen guns and a company of regulars would 
make them so in good earnest. 



. HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 193 

Thirteen miles by water from these natural 
forts, is Sydney, the former capital, and at pres- 
ent the largest city of Cape Breton. 

The city is notable for nothing except a look 
of quiet decay, and some very fine piers, from 
which im.mense quantities of coal are annually 
shipped. 

The coal mines are some three or four miles 
from the city, and their vast, sunless depths, 
running out for two miles under the ocean's 
waves ; their long, wide seams of coal ; their 
human inhabitants, whose coal-begrimed faces 
give them a very sinister expression ; and their 
plump little horses, which have never seen a ray 
of daylight, — make them well worth a visit from 
any traveller in Cape Breton. 

North Sydney is a place of more commercial 
importance than old Sydney, and in its well- 
situated harbor can be seen every sort of craft 
from the ugliest of little coal barges to the 
trimmest of British frigates. 

Old Louisburg Fort, some twenty-four miles 
from Sydney, on the south side of the island, 
13 



194 OUR VACATIONS. 

should be visited if there is time, for this old 
French capital was long the bloody battle-ground 
of the French and English when they fought for 
the possession of this region. Little but historic 
memories is left to old Louisburg now, how- 
ever, for, with the exception of a few fishermen's 
huts, the place is well nigh deserted. 

While stopping at Sydney, we must make Mrs. 
Herns's our headquarters, if that good lady has a 
spare room for us, for at most of the so-called 
hotels of Sydney we should fare but poorly. 

Now the northern limit of our vacation jour- 
ney has been reached, and if we wish to make 
the tour of the maritime provinces complete, we 
shall doubtless retrace our steps as far as Pictou, 
then strike across Nova Scotia by rail, and return 
to our republican home by way of Halifax. 

On the return journey, we reach Port Hawks- 
bury at nightfall, and going to bed in the steamer 
as she lies at the wharf, awake the next morning 
within sight of Pictou. 

.The steward hurries breakfast, the passengers 
hurry down their salmon and beefsteak, and then 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 195 

hurry ashore as the steamer grazes the Pictou 
wharf. But here all haste ceases, for Pictou, like 
eyer}^ other Acadian village, always preserves its 
unruffled equanimity, and you might as well try 
to hasten the growth of the forests primeval as 
to hurry the Bluenose inhabitants of this region. 

Before a great while, however, we are flying 
over the Nova Scotia Railway, which takes the 
traveller from Pictou to Halifax, through a coun- 
try wonderful for its rocks and barrenness, and 
for little else, apparently. To be sure, in the 
neighborhood of Truro there are many fine 
farms and stout fields of grass and grain, but 
throughout most of the journey the eye rests 
upon nothing but wide pastures, whose only 
crops are huge boulders, swampy lowlands cov- 
ered with stunted brushwood, and forests of pine 
and spruce, through which numerous fires have 
raged, leaving the trees leafless and dry. 

But the very headquarters and capital of this 
region, as far as barrenness goes, is in the neigh- 
borhood of Windsor Junction, where the Annap- 
olis valley road joins the Nova Scotia Railway. 



196 OUR VACATIONS. 

Here, for miles and miles, scarcely a foot of 
soft earth can be found. Stones, rocks, boulders, 
ledges, everywhere meet the eye. Every house 
is literally founded upon a rock. 

The man who finds sermons in stones ought 
to spend all his Sundays here ; and should he be 
of a religious turn of mind, and live to be as 
old as Methuselah, he never need hear the same 
discourse repeated. 

Fancy the top of Mount Washington brought 
down to the level of the sea, and suppose the 
rocks, instead of being heaped together in a ro- 
mantic sort of way, as rocks always should be, 
spread out very thickly over several square miles 
of territory, and you have a faint idea of the 
appearance of Windsor Junction and the sur- 
rounding country. 

There is an ancient tradition in this region 
accounting for this stony ground, which runs 
something as follows : — 

When Pyrrha and Deucalion passed this way, 
they engaged in their customary occupation of 
throwing boulders over their heads. But the 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 197 

rocks, partaking of the universal sluggish and 
tardy habits of the country, thought there 
was no hurry about turning into flesh and 
blood, and so waited until the second father and 
mother of mankind had got out of sight, when it 
was no longer possible for them to take the 
human shape divine ; and ever since they have 
remained weighty monuments to the evils of pro- 
crastination. 

By taking the Annapolis Railway, a few miles 
of travel will bring us right to the home of 
Evangeline. For here, — 

" In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of 
Minas, 

Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-Pre 

Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows sti-etched to 
the eastward, 

Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks with- 
out number ; 

There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian 
village. 

Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and 
of chestnut. 

Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign 
of the Henries. 



198 OUR VACATIONS. 

Thatched were the roofs, with dormer windows; and 

gables, projecting 
Over the basement below, protected and shaded the 

doorways." 

But though the Basin of Minas is just as fruit- 
ful as ever, not quite so secluded and still is the 
Acadian village as when Benedict Bellefontaine 
dwelt on his goodly acres. For modern life and 
bustle have even reached the Basin of Minas ; the 
iron horse snorts under the very dormer win- 
dows and gables projecting, and the conductor 
sticks his head into the car, and cries out, 
" Grand Free," in the broadest of Saxon ac- 
cents. Still in company with our pocket Long- 
fellows, w^e can spend many enjoyable hours 
in this Annapolis valley. 

After leaving Windsor Junction, the Nova 
Scotia road runs on the ram's horn principle 
for thirteen miles, w^ien it finds its terminus in 
the station at Halifax. 

But we are still two miles and a half from 
the business portion of the city, and must take 
one of the little horse cars which are fur- 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 199 

nished with only one door, and that one in front, 
and ride to the " International," or '' Halifax," or 
"'' Acadian," as fortune may direct. 

The fickle goddess once took us to the first- 
mentioned house ; and if we remember aright, 
we found no occasion to wish for a change, 
though we have no doubt that either of the 
others is equally good. 

Halifax impresses the stranger much more 
favorably than any other city in this part of Her 
Majesty's dominions, Mr. Warner to the contrary, 
notwithstanding. It has neither the unfinished, 
unsubstantial appearance of St. John, nor the 
straggling look of most of the smaller towns of 
the province. To be sure, a fresh coat of paint, 
of some other color than dirty brown, would 
greatly improve many of the houses even of 
Halifax ; but for the most part, the principal 
streets are lined with substantial blocks of brick 
or brown stone. 

From the Citadel there is a fine view of the 
beautiful site of the city, its many church-spires 
and fine school-houses, its spacious harbor white 



200 OUR VACATIONS. 

with the sails of many nations, and the broad 
Atlantic, with its waves and breakers rolling 
beyond. 

The city is remarkably well protected, for, 
besides the bristling Citadel, there is Fort George 
in the harbor, flanked on either side by Fort Clar- 
ence and the Eastern Battery, ready to belch out 
fire and lead from a hundred mouths. 

If possible, we must be in Halifax during one 
of the market days. These come every Wednes- 
day and Saturday, and then the market streets 
of the city present a very striking appearance. 
From early morn the little country carts begin to 
pour into the city, loaded with a very small 
portion of everything which the eye of man 
ever rested upon. 

The owners of these treasures arrange their 
teams near the market, until every street and 
alley within a radius of half a mile is lined with 
them. Here is a little go-cart with a small 
bunch of tansy, a few strips of slippery elm, and 
a half dozen quarts of diminutive green cran- 
berries, for its freight ; there stands another load- 



HO IV TO ENJOY THEM. 201 

eel with a few clusters of bimchberries, as many 
stalks of rhubarb, and a little watercress. 

In this corner, a family of Micmac Indians are 
fashioning rainbow-colored baskets, and at the 
same time nursing several bronze-faced little 
pappooses, which are curiously cradled between 
two flat pieces of board. On that side, a num- 
ber of shiny-faced colored sisters are dispensing 
pop beer, greasy doughnuts, and gingerbread 
men to numerous cannibal little boys and girls 
who have come in with their parents from the 
country. Here an auctioneer is cracking his 
voice in the vain effort to sell some chairs and 
tables that have outlived their usefulness, while 
his stentorian tones are almost drowned by the 
quacking of ducks and the squawking of chickens, 
which are tied by their legs and thrown together 
in a heap on one side, to await the coming of a 
purchaser. 

White men, black men, red men, Scotchmen, 
Frenchmen, Yankees, and Bluenoses ; jabbering 
English, Gaelic, Micmac, and darky lingo, ban- 
tering and haggling in a way that is known only 
in Halifax on a market day. 



202 OUR VACATIONS. 

Dalhousie College is one of the institutions of 
Halifax. The exterior of the single college build- 
ing, to be sure, does not speak very well for the 
higher educational advantages of Nova Scotia ; 
but it may be presumed that the faculty and cur- 
riculum do not at all correspond to the building. 

In one of the chairs of the college — vs^e think 
of moral philosophy — sits Professor De Mille, of 
novelistic fame. 

It seems almost ridiculous to think of the 
author of the rollicking " Dodge Club," the jolly 
" Lady of the Ice," and the mysterious " Cryp- 
togram " drilling Butler and metaphysics into a 
parcel of college boys ; nevertheless it is said 
that this man3--sided professor excels in morals 
as well as in tragic love-scenes. 

Dartmouth is the principal suburb of Halifax, 
where a large skate factory and an immense 
ropewalk are situated. But the place is of little 
interest, and will hardly repay a visit. 

To complete the circle of our provincial tour 
we must take one of the steamers of the Boston, 
Halifax and Prince Edward Island Steamship 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 203 

Line, or, if we choose, the Falmouth, which 
will land us at Portland. 

Or, if the traveller wishes to see one of the 
most interesting sections of Nova Scotia, he can 
return by way of the Windsor and Annapolis 
Railway and the Bay of Fundy steamer, return- 
ing thence to the United vStates the way he came. 
For a part of the distance to the junction, this is 
retracing our steps ; but having reached the Basin 
of Minas, the road runs along near the southern 
shore of the Bay of Fundy. The broad* marshes 
along the way are protected by dikes, built by 
the old Acadian French settlers. The view on 
the right reaches to the bay and the hills of 
Parrsboro', on the opposite shore. The bold 
promontory of Cape Blomidon is a prominent 
object in the landscape. We pass Hantsport, a 
busy ship-building village ; Wolfvills, where is 
Acadia College ; and Kentsville, where the rail- 
way offices are located, and reach Annapolis, 
the terminus. This is the ancient Port Royal, 
the first capital of the province, and one of the 
oldest places on the continent. The remains 



204 OUR VACATIONS, 

of old fortifications are still standing, arid from 
the summit can be had fine views of the river 
and the surrounding country. 

On being transferred to the steamer Empress, 
the traveller passes down the deep AnnajDolis 
basin, vv^ith a range of high hills on either side, 
to Digby, where a landing is made. This quiet, 
shady town has a pleasant outlook from the 
hill-side. The opening from the basin is between 
high bluffs, and through this the steamer passes 
into the Bay of Fundy, and after a run of three 
or four hours makes a landing at the wharf in 
St. John. 

In this schedule we start from Boston and come 
back to the Tri-Mountain Cjty. 

From Boston to St. John via International Line 

of steamers, ....... $5.50 

Grand Central Hotel at St. John, two days, at 

$1.50 per day, 3.00 

From St. John to Shediac zna European and 

North American Railroad, .... 2.50 
Weldon House at Shediac, one day, at $1.00 per 

day, 1. 00 

From Shediac to Summerside, Prince Edward 

Island steamers, 1.50 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 205 

From Summerside to Charlottetown 7>ta Bag- 
nail's stage, 1.50 

Hotel bill at Charlottetown, four days, . . 6.00 
From Charlottetown to Port Hawkesburj, Prince 

Edward Island steamers, . . . . 4 00 

From Port Hawkesbury to West Bay, by coach, . i.oo 

From West Bay to Sydney, 3.00 

At Mrs. Herns's, Sydney, three days, . . . 3.00 

Fares back to Pictou, over same route, . . 6 00 

From Pictou to Halifax, N. S., railroad, . . 3.25 

At International Hotel, Halifax, four days, . 6.00 
From Halifax to Boston via Boston, Halifax and 

Prince Edward Island Steamship Line, . 9.00 
Estimate for incidental expenses, including dis- 
count on money, &c., &c., .... 4000 



Total expense for round trip, . . .$96.25 



For those wishing to get a glimpse of the 
maritime provinces, a refreshing sea voyage, 
and at the same time not wishing to spend 
as much time or money as the trip we have 
just described requires, we can recommend 
nothing pleasanter than to take the round trip 
with one of the steamers of the Boston, Halifax 
and Prince Edward Island Steamship Line. 

The steamships of this company, the Carroll 



2o6 OUR VACATIONS. 

and Alhambra, are safe, roomy, and fast vessels, 
of some fourteen hundred tons burden, well fur- 
nished and well officered in every particular. 

The state-rooms are all double, and supplied 
with life-preserving mattresses, capable of out- 
riding any storm if it should be our bad luck to 
take a compulsory voyage on one of them. 

If we decide to follow the fortunes of the 
steamers on one of their trips, some Saturday 
noon will find us steaming away from Boston 
fro*m the end of T Wharf, and, wind and weather 
permitting, the next Monday morning will find us 
safely anchored in the snug harbor of Halifax. 

Our steamer only remains here a few hours, 
but long enough to give a very fair idea of 
this aristocratic little metropolis. Then we are 
on our way again, skirting the Nova Scotia coast, 
and getting our fill of the glorious views which 
the Straits of Canso afford by the early daylight 
of the next morning. 

Port Hawkesbury, which we reached before 
from the other end of the strait, is excited by the 
arrival of the Boston steamer early this Tuesday 
morning. 



HOW TO ENJOY THEM. 207 

A great event is this arrival, you would think, 
if you could see the commotion among the 
owners of the nondescript trains we have before 
alluded to, as they rush forward to try their 
powers of persuasion upon our unsuspecting 
fellow-pilgrims who are bound for Sydney or 
Baddeck. 

About four o'clock in the afternoon, we come 
in sight of grimy Pictou, and the next morning 
we wake up within sight of Charlottetown, the 
terminus of our steamer's route. 

On Prince Edward Island we remain two days, 
and have plenty of time for a fishing trip among 
the trout brooks, and for a sight of the life of the 
islanders. 

Then, if time or inclination forbids a longer 
stay in the provinces, we can take our steamer 
again Thursday night, and retrace our steps 
as we came, reaching Boston the next Mon- 
day morning. 

The expenses of such a vacation are about as 
follows : — 



2o8 OUR VACATIONS. 

Fare to Charlottetown, including state-room, $12.00 
" from " " " . . 12.00 

Meals (breakfast and supper at 50 cts., dinner 

at75cts.), ....... 15.75 

Expenses in port, 10.25 



Total, . . . . . . . $50.00 

Thus we have a delightful excursion of nine 
>, and a sea voyage of more than half the 
distance to Europe. 



VA CA TION AD VER TISEMENTS. 



WHITE MOUNTAIN HOUSE. 



EOUNSEVEtL & COLBURN, Proprietors. 

CABBOLL, N, H. 



Board, $2, BO per Day. Reasonable Terms 
by the "Week. 



This well known resort for Summer Tourists has recently been enlarged and 
refitted, and is now open to the travelling public. 

Situated on the Ammonoosuc. Boston, Concord, and Montreal Railroad Sta- 
tion in front of house. Our rooms are comfortable, and furnished with new beds 
and bedding. Satisfaction guaranteed to our guests. We take pleasure in refer- 
ring to our former patrons. We intend to make this house a Home for those 
who visit the Mountains. 

A Good Livery connected with the house. 

We will take our patrons to all points of interest about the Mountains on rea- 
sonable terms. 

TABLE OF DISTANCES. 

B. C. & M. Railroad Station At the Door. 

WiLLEV House 8 Miies. 

WaUMBEK HoU; E II " 

Crawford Notch 5 '* 

Mt. Washington Railroad Station 7 " 

Ammonoosuc Falls 3 " 

Fabvan House X " 

The tables will be supplied with the luxuries of the season, prepared by expe- 
rienced cooks, and served by attentive waiters. 

A share of patronage solicited. 

The facilities for reaching this house are much improved by the extension of the 
Boston, Concord and Montreal Railroad to the door. From this house all points 
are easy of access, being centrally located among the Mountains. 



ESTES AND LAURIAT'S PUBLICATIONS, 
Warehouse 143 Washington St., Boston. 



OVER 100,000 COPIES OF THIS WORK HAVE BEEN SOLD IN FRENCH. 

Chiisot's Popular History of France. 

TRANSLATED BY KOBEST BLACK. 

This great Work is now offered to the American public, and the 
Publishers, having spared no pains or expense in its reproduc- 
tion, confidently believe that, as a specimen of book -making, it 
is unexcelled by ant book made in America. By a special 
arrangement with the European publishers, we have secured 
Electrotypes of all of the original wood cuts, by the cele- 
brated artist, A. de Neuville, thereby securing impressions of 
the same fully equal to the originals. These Three Hundred 
Illustrations are pronounced by some of the best Art judges in 
the country to be the finest wood cuts ever printed in 
America. Besides the above, we shall add to the work Forty 
Magnificent Steel Line Engravings, by celebrated artists. 

It will be issued in Semi-Monthly Parts, and the whole work 
"Will be comprised in not more than Forty-eight, nor less than 
Forty Parts. 

Persons wanting a good and reliable History of France, 
need have no hesitation in subscribing for this, as it is the only 
one of a popular nature, and by a Standard Historian, to be 
had in the English language. The Publishers offer it confi- 
dently believing that it will supply a long-felt want. The world- 
wide reputation of Guizot is a sufficient recommendation to the 
work, and a guarantee of its being a thoroughly correct and an 
intensely interesting history. 

SOIiI> OlSriL'S' TO STJBSOMBEItS. 

Fifty Cents per Part, 

O^ Experienced Canvassers wanted for this magnificent work. Apply 
to the Publishers. 



ESTES AND LAURIAT'S PUBLICATIONS. 

Warehouse 143 Washington Street, Boston. 



Boston, Nov. 20, 1873. 
Grentlemen : M. Guizot's History of France should be read by all who 
are not indifferent to historical studies. To a most interesting' subject he 
brings the experience of a statesman, the study of a professor, and the 
charm of an accomplished writer. I am glad you are to place this recent 
work within the reach of all American readers. 

Faithfully yours, CHARLES SUMNEE. 



Everything from the pen of Guizot is remarkable for thoroughness of 
investigation and exact statement. WENDELL PHILLIPS. 

The work supplies a want which has long been felt, and it ought to be 
in the hands of all students of history. We cannot doubt that it will meet 
with the same favorable reception in England which has already attended 
its publication in France. LONDON TIMES. 

The name of Guizot is a sufficient guarantee for the historical value of 
whatever he writes. E. G. ROBINSON, Pres. Brown University. 



I should be glad to see Guizot's History of France in every school. 

JOHN D. PHILBRICK, Sup't Public Schools, Boston. 



The Popular History of France will be interesting, instructive, and 
worth to intelligent persons much more than it will cost. 

W. A. STEARNS, Pres. Amherst College. 



I have no hesitation in recommending this work. 

JOHN W. BURGESS, Prof. History Amherst College. 



There is no man more fit to write a History of Prance than M. Guizot. 
JOSHUA L. CHAM BERLIN, President Bowdoin College. 



"We have seen no other subscription book which, for literary, artistic, 
and mechanical excellence, could be so unreservedly commended. 

MICHIGAN TEACHER. 



ESTES AND LAURIAT'S PUBLICATIONS. 
Warehouse 143 Washington Street, Boston. 

KNIGHT'S 

Popular History of England. 



As an appropriate companion to Guizot's Populak History 
OF France, we have issued, in Eight Octavo Volumes, this 
truly magnificent work. It is an Illustrated History of Society 
and Government, from the earliest period to the year 1867. By 
Charles Knight. With more than 1400 Illustrations, includiog 
200 fine Steel Portraits. 

This is the only complete Standard 
History of England, 

The reader must go through Hume, SmoUet, Macaulay, 
Froude, Martineau, and others, to go over the ground which is 
well covered in this work. Not only does it give with accu- 
racy and system the historical events from the Druidical times 
down to the present decade, but it also depicts minutely the man- 
ners and customs of each era. The author suggests that its title 
should be a History of the English People, rather than a History 
of England. Numerous plates illustrate the text, and present 
vividly to the reader the actors and scenes of the narrative ; and 
a copious Index facilitates reference to the contents of the work. 



STYLES OF BINDING. 

8 Vols. 8vo. Cloth, uncut, $25.00 

'* " Cloth, beveled, gilt extra, trimmed edges, 25.00 

** ** Salf calf extra 45.00 

** ** Half Morocco extra, 45.00 

** ** Full tree calf, London hound, 60.00 



ESTES AND LAURIAT'S PUBLICATIONS. 
Warehouse 143 Washington St., Boston. 

KNIGHT'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



T E S T I IwdC O 3Sri -A. li S- 



We very cordially recommend these volumes to the readers whom they 
seek. We know of no History of England so free from prejudice ; so thor- 
oughly honest and impartial ; so stored with facts, fancies, and illustra- 
tions; and therefore none so well adapted for school or college as this. — 
London Athenseum. 



Its literary merits are of a very high order; indeed, nothing has ever 
appeared superior, if anything has been published equal, to the account 
of the state of commerce, government, and society at different periods.— 
Lord Brougham. 

In Charles Knight's admirably comprehensive History of England, no 
topic that concerns the history of the English people has been omitted; 
the book of Mr, Knight being, let us say here, by the way, the best 
HISTORY extant, not only for, but also of, the people.— Charles Dickens. 



Mr. Knight's book well deserves its name; it will be emphatically pop- 
ular, and it will gain its popularity by genuine merit. It is as good a book 
of the kind as ever was written. — Westminster Review. 



The best history extant, not only for, but also of, the people. — All the 
Tear Round. 

A standard book on the shelves ^f all libraries. — London Spectator, 



The last and greatest literary work of his life. This history will remain, 
for many a long day, a standard work. — London Times. 



This work is the very best History of England that we possess. — Lon- 
don Standard, 



BSTES AND LAURIAT'S PUBLICATIONS. 

Warehouse 143 Washington Street, Boston. 

JEtlena, 

By L. N. CoMTN, Author of "Atherstone Priory," "Ellice," 
&c. 1 vol. 12mo. $1.50. 

An Italian story of great power and beauty; one that is sure to live. 
— Leeds Mercury. 

" Elena " is one of the most elegant and interesting fictions of the 
season. — London Messenger. 

A very pleasing and touching story. It is sure to be read. — London 
Daily News. 

Waiting -Moping. 

A Novel, from the French of Andre Leo. By J. E. Gale. 
12mo. Cloth. $1.50. 

The American Naturalist, 

An Illustrated Repertory of Natural History. Making a com- 
pact library of popular papers on nearly every branch of this 
interesting science. 6 vols. 8vo. Cloth. $5.00 per vol. 

MogartJi^s Works. 

Quarto. Cloth. With 62 full-page Plates, and descriptive 
letter-press. " A marvel of cheapness." $3.50. 

The Hhine. 

A Tour from Paris to Mayence, by the Way of Aix-la-Cha- 
pelle. With an Account of its Legends, Antiquities, and im- 
portant Historical Events. By Victor Hugo. 12mo. Cloth. 

#2.50. 

Chimes for Childhood. 

A Collection of Songs for Little Folks. With 20 Illustrations 
by BiRKET Foster, Millais, and others. Tinted paper, 208 
pages. Cloth, 75 cts. ; half bound, 60 cts. 



BSTES AND LAURIAT'S PUBLICATIONS. 
Warehouse 143 Washington Street^ Boston. 

Packard^s Guide to the Study of Insects. 

Being a popular Introduction to the Study of Entomology, and 
a Treatise on Injurious and Beneficial Insects ; with Descrip- 
tions and Accounts of the Habits of Insects, their Transforma- 
tions, Development, and Classification. 15 full-page Plates, 
and 670 Cuts in the Text, embracing 1260 Figures of American 
Insects. Sixth edition. 1 vol. 8vo. Price reduced to $5.00. 
This book is now acknowledg-ed to be the standard, and is used in the 
leading universities and institutioas of Europe and America. 

Malf Hours witli Insects * 

A popular Account of their Habits, Modes of Life, &c. To be 
published in 12 parts, fully illustrated. Each part 25 cents. 
By A. S. Packard, Jr., of the Peabody Academy of Science. 
The subjects treated are — Insects of the Garden, of the 
Plant House, of our Ponds and Brooks ; Population of an 
Apple Tree ; Insects of the Forest, as Musicians and Mimics ; 
as Architects ; Insects in Societies ; The Reasoning Powers 
of Insects. 

Say^s Entomology. 

A Description of the Insects of North America. By Thomas 
Say. With 54 full-page steel-plate Illustrations, engraved 
and colored from nature. Edited by J. L. Le Conte. With 
a Memoir by Geo. Ord. Two vols. 8vo. Cloth, $15.00; 
half calf, $20 00. 

This standard work is now out of print, the plates having been de- 
stroyed. We offer the balance of the edition at the above prices. It 
will soon become scarce, and command a very much higher price. 

Our Common Insects, 

A popular Account of the more common Insects of our Coun- 
try, embracing chapters on Bees and their Parasites, Moths, 
Flies, Mosquitos, Beetles, &c. ; while a Calendar will give a 
general Account of the more common Injurious and Beneficial 
Insects, and their Time of Appearance, Habits, &c. 200 pages. 
Profusely Illustrated. ?rice ^2.50. 



VA CA TION AD VER TISEMENTS. 



ARRANGEMENT FOR 1874. 



INTERMTIOML STE4MSHIP COMPANY. 



Line of Steamers between 

BOSTON, 

PORTLAND, 

EASTPORT, and 

ST. JOHN, N. B., 

With Connections to 

CALAIS, ME, HALIFAX, N. S, CHARLOTTETOM, P. E. L, &C. 



The favorite, superior, sea-going steamers of this line, 

NEW YORK, NEW BRUNSWICK, 

AN© 

CITY OF PORTLAND, 

Leave end of Commercial VVhf., Boston, Bt 8 A. M., and Railroad Whf., 
Portland, at 6 P. M., for Eastport and St. John, as follows: 

In April, May, and to June 15, every Monday and Thursday. 

From June 15 and through July, August, and September, every 

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. 

In October, November, and December, every Monday and Thursday. 

Passengers by the morning and noon trains of Eastern and Boston and Maine 
Railroads from Boston, can take the steamer at Portland at 5 P. M. 

Passengers forwarded by connecting steamers and railroad lines to Calais and 
Houlton," Me. ; St Andrews, Woodstock, Fredericton, and Shediac, N. B. ; 
Amherst, Truro. New G'asgow, Pictou, Digby, Annapolis, Kentvjlle, Windsor, 
Liverpool, and Halifax, N. S. ; Summerside and Charlottetown, P. E. I. 

Rates of fare from Boston to Eastport, $5.00; Calais, $5.50; St. John, $5.50; 
Digby, $7.00; Annapolis, $7.50; Kentviile, ^8.50; Halifax, via Annapolis, 
Windsor, &c., $9.50; Halifax, all rail, from St. John, $11.00; Shediac, $8.25; 
Summerside, $9.50 ; Charlottetown, $10.50. 

Je®=" Through Tickets and State Rooms secured at the Agents' Offices, or of 
Clerks on board. 



AGENTS : A. R. Stubbs, Portland ; George Haves, Eastport ; H. W 
Chisholm, St. John. 

W. H. KILBY, 

End of Commercial Wharf. BOSTON, 



VA CA TION AD VER TiSEMENTS. 



THE ISTE-W 

IIOiI[|[&L iHD BOSTON mil lllt[ 

NOW RUN 

TWO FAST EXPRESS TRAINS, of new and elegant Cars, 
provided with all the Modern Improvements, 

FROM 

BOSTON to n^Oi^TREAL, 

Without Change. 

No Route from Boston presents such magnificent scenery. Passengers by 
this line travel through the 

PARADISE OF THfS CONTINENT. 

A most charming Panorama of River, Mountain, and Lake Scenery, including 
the grand views of Lake Winnepesaukee, White Mountain Eange, and Chrystal 
Lake, will entertain the traveller for a distance of 250 miles. 



jfKg^WE OFFER TO THE PUBLIC A LIST OF TOURBST AND 

EXCURSBON TDCKETS NEVER before shown. 



LEVE & CLARK, Ticket Agents, 

94: Washington Sti^eet, Boston, 

K. P. LOVEEING, JE., Gen'l Ticket Ag't, | GUSTAVB LEVE, Pass'r Ag't for N. E., 
LYNDONVILLE, VT. J 94 Washington Street. 



VA CA TION AD VER TISEMENTS. 

inreekly Line 

FOR 

HALIFAX, PORT HAWKESBUHY, 
. PICTOU, and 
CHARLOTTETOWN, P. E. I. 

Carrying the U. S. Mail. 

THE STEAMSHIPS 

Will leave for the above ports alternately 

Every Saturday^ at 12 M. 

No Freight received after lo A. M. on day of sailing. 

Shippers must send with Receipts the value of Goods for Master's Manifest. 

For Freight or Passage apply to 

WM. H. RING, 18 T. Wharf, 
or E. H. ADAMS, 82 Washington Street. 

F. NiCKERSOK, & CO., Assents. 



VA CA TION AD VER TISEMENTS. 

THE 

CENTRAL VERMONT R. R. LINE 

IS THE 

Shortest^ Quickest^ and Best 

ROUTE BETWEEN 

New England and Canada. 

Equipped with ^ulltU^U (S/UTHf ''^'' ^"^"^ ''"^ 



MODERN IMPROVEMENTS. 



^-Send for the "SUMMER EXOUESIOinST " (a new 
^^^ edition eacli year) before yon select yonr Vacation 
^^ Trip or Snmmer Jannt. -^^^ 

It contains several thousand excursions, including all the popular resorts, and 
arranged to meet the wants of the public as regards expense and time. 



Tickets and full information obtained at 



No. 65 Washington Street, Boston, 

T. EDWARD BOND, Ticket Ag't. 



L. MILLIS, Gen'l Supt. Traffic. 'S. W. CUMMINGS, Pass'r Agent. 

ST. ALBANS, VT. 



VA CA TION AD VER TISEMENTS. 

Sea-ShoB'e Route 

TO 

NORTH COKWAY « tie WHITE MOUNTAINS, 

AND 

Only All-Rail and Stage Route 



RANGLEYS, MOOSEHEAD LAKE, and 
MOUNT DESERT. 

Also, the All-Rail Route to the Maritime Provinces is via the 

EASTERN & M« CENTRAL R. R. 111. 

Connections are also made at Portland with the Railroad and Steamboat 
Lines to all parts of Canada, Coast of Maine, and Maritime Provinces. 



For further information, Time Tables, also to secure your Tickets, Berths and 
Chairs in the Pullman Cars, apply at the 

GENERAL PASSENGER OFPICE: 

BOSTOKT, IVEA-SS- 
CHAS. F. HATCH, CEO. F. FIELD, 

Gen'I Manager. Gen'I Pass'r Ag't. 



VA CA TION AD VER TISEMENTS. 

SAIL-MAKER, 



AND MANUFACTURER OF 



ITALIAN AWNINGS, TENTS, 

FLAGS, WAGON COVERINGS, 

SACKINGS and STORE AWNINGS, 

OF EVERY DESCRIPTION. 

Cor. Commercial and South Market Streets, 

(.ENTRANCE 2 SOUTH MARKET ST.) 

BOSToasr. 



R. M. Y. keeps constantly on hand a good assortment of Awning Stripes, of 
various patterns, and all orders will be promptly attended to. Also, Tents of all 
sizes, and Flags of all Nations^ to be let on reasonable terms. 



VA CA TION AD VER TISBMENTS. 



BOSTON &MAIlaflaGRAlTRllR.R. 



Boston and l^ontireal« 



Passengers from Boston and the South and West will find that this neYr 
route, as now open, combines comfort and convenience with cheap- 
ness and despatcli. 

^utttuHtt palace ^Ue^inq ^uvh 

ON ALL THROUGH TRAINS- 

J9S* THROUGH TICKETS to MONTREAL, and all Iniermediale Polnis, 
for sale at Stations on BOSTON & MAINE R, R. 
4^ Baggage Checked Through FREE from REVENUE INSPECTION. 



The BOSTON & MAINE RAILROAD also connects at Portland with tht 

Maine Central Railroad for Bath, Hallowell, Augusta, Lewiston, Wa- 
TERviLLE, Bangor, Eastport, and St. John ; with the New England and 
Nova Scotia Steamship Co. for Halifax ; and with the Portland and Og- 
dejishurg Railroad for IVorth. Conway and the 'Wliite Mountains. 
The road to Alton Bay, Wolfboro', and Centre Habbor, and the 
Steamer on Lake Winniiiseogee, are owned by the Boston and Maine Railroad, 
and Traifis connect at Dover for these points with all trains on the main Hrte, 
The only direct roide to Wells, Old Orchard, and Scarboro' Beaches, 
points which are UNSURPASSED for good hotels, heauiifid drives, and^ne 
sea bathing. 

STATION IN BOSTON: 

HAYMAEKET SQ., at the Head of Washington St. 

J AS. T. FURBER, Gen'l Sup't. 



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W^M. RESAD i£ SOIffS^ 

■ 13 Faneuil Hall Square; Boston, 

DEALERS IN 

Both Breech and Muzzle-Loading, 

Of all the best makers, "Scott," "Westley Richards," "Moore," 
"Webley," "Greener," "Ellis," and others. 

AGENTS for 

'<W. & C. SCOTT & SON'S '^ 
Celebrated Breech Loaders. 

Scott's Illustrated Work on Breech-Loaders, 25 cents, by mail. 

ALSO 

FIHE TROUT AND SALMON RODS, 

FLIES, REELS, LINES, 

And everything in Fishing-Tackle Outfits. 
TOURISTS' KNAPSACKS, &c., &c. 
Ballard's, Maynard's, Wesson's, Stevens', and Winchester's 

Of all Calibres. 

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